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IN THE CITY OF UNDER. 



IN THE CITY 
OF UNDER 


BY 

EVELYNE RYND, 

AUTHOR OF ” MRS. GREEN,” " OTHERLAND,” ETC. 


“ Possunt quia posse vldentur." 


NEW YORK 

LONGMANS, GREEN & CO. 
LONDON: EDWARD ARNOLD 

[All rights reserved] 








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THIS STORY BELONGS 
TO 

MY SECOND NEPHEW, 

GEOFFREY CECIL CONGREVE 

WHO 


HAS THE CHARM 





TO GEOFFREY— GROWING UP. 


Chartley Castle, 1914. 

I 

The ways of old, the ways of youth, 

Oh, those we’ll tread no more, 

For those led by the hills of youth 
Upon an island shore, 

Long ago and far away — 

Though no one marked the hour and day 
That shut a closing door. 

II 

The ways of men, the ways of life. 

Oh, each one finds his own ; 

For these lead up the steeps of life. 

By these, at last, alone, 

A child must climb from reach and sight — 

How far from mine the road to-night 
That you have gone ! 

III 

But, for those old ways’ sake, this book 
Is yours ; and on the new 
The winds and dreams and tides of life. 
Converging, move with you. 

Carry you onward day by day ; 

So grown-up and far away ! 

Out of an old Aunt’s view. 


Vlll 


IV 

Courage, and climb ! — yet know, beloved, 
However fast you move 
Up the long road to victory 
That runs, alone, above. 

Far out of knowledge, sight and speech — 
You’ll never climb beyond the reach 
Of my heart’s love. 


INTRODUCTION 

Whether this is a fairy-tale or not it would 
be difficult to say. It might be, of course, and 
then again it might not. When one comes to 
think of it, everything that happened might have 
happened to have happened as it did. The 
Hawker may have been no more than a queer 
kind-hearted observant fellow, living in the heart 
of the affairs of Under and turning them lightly 
to serve a friend’s end; the age-old legends of 
the days of the gods and the foreigners of Under 
may have had nothing to do with the story of 
John Hazard and the Charm. But there it is. 
We may all think what we please. Only one 
thing is certain — move out on your road, and 
before you have gone half a mile, you will find 
the whole world thronging along it with you — 
the world of the long-ago past, and the world 
of the changing future — faces unknown to you, 
forces unguessed by you, chances undreamed of 


IX 


X 


. — moving and meeting and passing beside you 
and carrying you on every step of your road. 
But leave things be in this black world and sit 
on the doorsteps of Down Street with old Mother 
Letitlie all your days — and there, without a 
dream or a friend, you will end them. 


Chapter 


CONTENTS 


Page 


I. 

THE 

HAWKER COMES TO UNDER 

- 

1 

II. 

THE 

HAWKER COMES TO DOWN STREET 

16 

III. 

THE 

FORESTS ON THE HILLS 

- 

- 

26 

IV. 

THE 

ironmonger’s son - 

- 

- 

38 

V. 

THE 

ADVENT OF AUGUSTUS 

- 

- 

52 

VI. 

THE 

miller’s charm 

- 

- 

71 

VII. 

THE 

THREE FIRST TRIALS 

- 

- 

85 

VIII. 

THE 

FAILURE OF THE FOURTH 

- 

- 

117 

IX. 

THE 

HOUSE OF MARIAMNE 

- 

- 

142 

X. 

THE 

PROFESSOR TRIES TO COOK 

- 

163 

XI. 

THE 

LITTLE MAN ARRIVES 

- 

- 

189 

XII. 

THE 

THEFT OF THE SLOOP 

- 

- 

217 

XIII. 

THE 

WAYSEND INN 

- 

- 

234 

XIV. 

THE 

HAWKER LEAVES UNDER 

- 

- 

262 

XV. 

THE 

CHARM SUCCEEDS 

- 

- 

286 

l’envoi 

_ - * - 

- 

. 

305 


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IN THE CITY OF UNDER \ 

CHAPTER I 

The Hawker Comes to Under 
There was once upon a time a boy called John 
Hazard, who lived with his family in the City of 
Under and the Street called Down. They lived 
at Number 179, because it was the only house 
left of all the houses that had once belonged to 
the Hazard family, the roof of which they still 
could call their own. The little slate roof of 
Number 179, which was so steep and ill-built 
that slates fell off it into the street whenever a 
stout man walked by, was not the kind of roof 
that anyone would have wished to call his own 
unless he had to, but the Hazards paid no rent 
for it, and, as they had nothing to pay rent 
with, that settled the matter. 

So when they were left without a father, and 
very poor, James came to Down Street from 
Wellington College, and Amoris Ellen came 

1 A 


2 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


from her Parisian convent, and John and his 
mother came from India ; and the Hazards’ 
windows were the only windows in Down Street 
that ever had clean curtains in them, and almost 
the only windows that had curtains at all. 

John had lived in India all his life, and so had 
his mother. She had never been in England in 
the winter, and never seen the City of Under, 
and of such a street as Down Street she had 
never so much as dreamed. When first she 
saw it, she wept with surprise and dismay, but 
even before she left ofi weeping she found herself 
obliged to begin working, for the little house was 
not fit to be lived in till it had been worked in 
for many a day. She had no one but John to 
help her. James and Amoris Ellen did not 
know how to help anybody, and the girl who had 
been hired to help hardly helped at all. She 
had been brought up in a Charity School, and 
taught not to let her right hand know what her 
left was doing, which was perhaps the reason 
why she dropped nearly everything she picked 
up and often broke it. 

From cleaning, John’s mother had to go on to 
unpacking and arranging, and from unpacking 
and arranging to contriving and planning, till 


THE HAWKER COMES TO UNDER 3 

she had no time left for crying, and John had no 
time to look beyond the doorstep of his new 
home and see what it was like there. But when 
everything had been unpacked and planned, and 
they had all fairly begun their unaccustomed 
lives in the little house, there was not much 
more that John could do, and there was so much 
that his mother had to do that she had less and 
less time to do anything for John. When one 
has three children to cook and scheme and clean 
and save and sew for, one cannot spend many 
hours being a companion to one of them, and as 
for John’s brother and sister, they were too old 
and too clever to be greatly interested in John. 

So he began to look round him for some life 
of his own to take up, and went out into Under 
to find it. In Down Street he found the Down 
Street street-boys, numbers of them. They fought 
with shrieks all the week, and on Sundays they 
processed about in a tidy and dignified manner, 
in bow-ties. They had stared at John ever 
since his arrival, and had shouted remarks at 
him, such as “ Elio, Inja, ’ow’s the blacks,” 
or, “ Fetch ’is mother to take ’im ’ome,” which 
John, beheving to be wit, had smiled mildly 
upon as he went back or forth upon his mother’s 


4 


IN THE CITY OF UNDEE 


errands. But when he came out among them 
and introduced himself to them pohtely, they 
treated him with unveiled contempt, and hit 
him because he wore clean collars on a week-day, 
and gave himself airs. John, surprised and 
anxious, had to fight them singly and in crowds, 
and being very short for his years and entirely 
unversed in the art of warfare, he invariably 
got the worst of it. After a short period of 
anxiety and storm, he gave up the endeavour 
to establish himself and retired from the life 
of Down Street, and the street-boys, having 
exhausted him as a subject of interest and 
expressed their embittered view of anything so 
different to themselves, troubled about him no 
more. Sometimes, if they happened to see him 
anywhere, they expressed their opinion again 
in yells, but otherwise they rushed on their 
tempestuous and distracted existence along the 
pavements of Down Street, and forgot him. 

But it was the first time in John’s life that he 
had been repulsed and scorned, and the shock 
was both astonishing and depressing. 

For a time he walked about Down Street 
alone and looked at the street-boys from afar, 
but after a while, driven to fresh efforts by the 


THE HAWKER COMES TO UNDER 5 


loneliness and idleness and dulness of his life, he 
took courage and tried again. This time he 
went further afield. He left Down Street and 
went out into the city — into the cold and dirt- 
grimed streets, dark with winter, sheathed in 
stone. He might as well have stayed at home. 
One after another, they were full of vacant- 
faced, weary, busy people who took no notice 
of each other or of him ; and the further he 
walked among them the more evident it only 
became that they were all leading, and he with 
them, a life in which there was nothing he could 
do, and nothing he wanted to do, and nothing 
he had ever done before. 

Then John gave it up. Weeks passed and 
years passed and nothing happened, and there 
was still no one to make friends with or go about 
with and nothing to do. He went on living 
in the dark cold city of Under without heart 
or interest ; and cared no longer. 

At twelve years of age he was much the same 
as he had been at eight. Four winters in Under 
had not changed what India had begun. He 
was still very short for his years, and still very 
silent; and he went now to Mr. Whillipson’s 
Day Academy for Young Gentlemen, where 


6 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


the schoolboys laughed at him as the street boys 
had, because he was so little and so polite. It 
was the best school his mother could afford, 
and James went to it too, and he and John were 
the only gentlemen there. But James, who 
had now reached sixteen, was not exactly in 
the school. The very highest standard of a 
day-school in Under was too low for James. He 
worked independently with Mr. Whillipson, and 
often he worked independently of Mr. Whillip- 
son ; and Mr. Whillipson said James was a 
genius, and by hook or by crook, for he was 
bitterly poor himself, he bought for James the 
advanced books James could not afford to buy 
for himself, and every now and again rushed 
passionately in to visit James’ mother, and to 
implore her to be rich enough to allow James to 
go on with his mathematics and win an astro- 
nomical scholarship, instead of going into an 
Insurance Office to earn a pound a week. James 
took no more notice of Mr. Whillipson than he 
ever took of anybody. He went on walking 
up and down the dining-room carpet working 
out abstruse problems by himself, as he had 
always done. 

As for Amoris Ellen, she was now fifteen and 


Thu hawker comes to under ? 

she had not altered much either. When she had 
finished her other work, and sometimes when she 
had not, she sat and sang in the parlour at the 
piano her mother had bought for her out of the 
old bottles and skins money for seven -and -six- 
pence at a rummage sale. A good many of its 
notes made no noise at all, and others made 
noises that you could not call notes, but nothing 
deterred Amoris Ellen from continuing to sing 
to it. She sang all her worries to it, such as 
having to wash up after breakfast, or not having 
a soul to speak to. The more Amoris Ellen 
felt things, and there were a good many she felt a 
great deal, the more she sang to the old piano. 
Down Street never seemed to be much surprised 
at the music which had thus suddenly burst 
forth in its midst. It was not the kind of street 
to be much surprised at anything. But it never 
left off listening to it. When the summer 
evenings returned in the round of the year, people 
used to sit on the edges of the pavements near 
No. 179 in stolid meditation while Amoris Ellen 
sang upstairs behind the open windows like a 
nightingale imprisoned in a city parlour. But 
she always knew when there were listeners out- 
side, and for that she sang the louder. 


8 


IN THE CITY OE UNDER 


So James had his sums and his dreams, and 
Amoris Ellen had her songs and her dreams, and 
their mother had no dreams, but she had John 
and her duty. As for John Hazard, he had 
nothing. When he was not helping his mother 
or doing his school-work, he walked about Down 
Street with his hands in his pockets or sat on old 
Mother Letitlie’s doorstep. 

Old Mother Letitlie reposed in an armchair in 
her doorway all day long with her hands folded. 
She was very, very old. She could remember 
times that nobody else in Under had ever heard 
of. Under was built below a range of hills, 
and a river flowed through it, and in front of it 
the flat plains spread to the distant sea, and 
behind it stood a great cliff, which threw a black 
shadow over the city streets early every after- 
noon. It was evening in Under sooner than 
in any other place in the world, because of the 
cliff that rose so high into the west behind it. 
Once the city had been nothing but a little 
grey-roofed village, with no factories and no 
railways and only one road to join it with the 
world ; and old Mother Letitlie could tell queer 
tales of the things that had happened in it then. 
In those days, she said, nobody would walk 


THE HAWKEE COMES TO UNHER 0 


alone under the cliff after dusk had fallen, for 
fear of the strange feet that might be coming 
down it from the hills on the top, though there 
was no way either up or down that anybody knew 
of except through the gap, ten miles from the 
city, where there was a break in the cliff through 
which the river, and the road, and now the 
railway, wound down from the high country to 
the plain of Under. 

“ But they needed no road made for ’em,” 
said old Mother Letitlie ; “ They made their 
own way up and down.” 

“ Did anybody ever look for it ? ” John 
Hazard would ask. “ Who’d be such a fool as 
to look for a real way up such a cliff as that ? ” 
old Mother Letitlie would reply ; “ The way 
they came up and down was a way it would have 
been little use looking for. There were some 
that vanished by it, but none of ’em ever came 
back to tell the road they took. It was a road 
they couldn’t have travelled by if they’d been 
alone — that much was certain. Those that 
called up the cliff always got their answer all 
right.” The exact words of the Call old Mother 
Letitlie could not remember, but the beginning 
still ran in her head : 


10 IN THE CITY Of UNDER 

“ In, on, under thee 
If aught hear, if aught see. 

If aught moves, answer me.” 

“ And they all disappeared in the end and never 
came back,” said old Mother Letitlie. 

“ Where did they go to ? ” said John. 

“ Up into the hills first, and after that who 
knows where ? ” said old Mother Letitlie. 

“ And who was it answered them ? ” said 
John. 

“ It was the Foreigners answered them,” 
said Mother Letithe. “ Those that came down 
from the hills above Under didn’t belong to 
this part of the world. Hundreds of years ago 
they came across the sea, and the Foreigners 
they were, and the Foreigners folk called ’em.” 

“ Did you ever call upon them. Mother 
Letithe ? ” answered John. 

“ Why would I be calling upon them ? ” 
said old Mother Letitlie. “ It’s a black world, 
and it’s got to be borne with, and the only thing 
to do is to sit still in it and leave things be.” 

But John Hazard would murmur as he sat 
far below in the little street in the heart of the 
city and gazed up at the cliff, “ I wonder where 
the Foreigners went to when they went away 


THE HAWKEE COMES TO UNDER 11 


from Under ” ; and old Mother Letitlie would 
reply, “ It’s a waste of time wondering what can’t 
ever be found out. Nobody knows where they 
went, but go they did when the railway came 
to Under and folk began to build. It don’t 
matter where they went, nor where they are now. 
It’s much best to leave things be, as I do myself, 
though there are always fools that won’t,” said 
old Mother Letitlie, folding her hands in her lap, 
and gazing out at Down Street. 

Except for old Mother Letitlie, nobody in 
Down Street ever talked to John. The Iron- 
monger’s Son had once been wont to do so, it 
is true. Being of an inquisitive disposition, he 
had at one time consorted with John, that he 
might discover by judicious questioning interest- 
ing details of the poverty of the Hazard family. 
But even he had said recently, in a lofty manner, 
that he was afraid he could hardly go on knowing 
John much longer, for the Ironmonger had 
taken out a patent for a new way of cleaning 
fenders, and there was thus every hope that he 
and his family would soon all be gentlemen. Not 
poor gentlemen, of course, for whom contempt 
is the natural portion, but rich gentlemen — a 
very different kind. 


12 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


So it happened that on the hot summer Satur- 
day afternoon upon which this story begins, 
John Hazard had nobody to talk to. Old Mother 
Letitlie was leaving things be too thoroughly 
to exclude even John from their number, and 
she had replied to three polite questions with 
but one grunt. The Ironmonger’s Son had 
passed by with his nose in the air, for he was 
walking with the new minister’s son, and felt 
himself unable to recognise anyone of lesser 
degree. John went down Down Street after his 
usual fashion, alone, with his hands behind 
him, and walked on into the city. He walked 
a long way, through one busy street after another, 
till he came to a long and narrow little road 
in which there was nobody but himself. It lay 
between a wide belt of local railway hnes and 
the backs of high warehouses. Long stretches 
of it were empty, for the traffic from the little 
stations on the lines passed straight across it 
into the city, and up or down it few people ever 
came. 

This was the edge of the city. Beyond the 
railways lay.,a long stretch of waste lands, and 
beyond the waste lands rose the cliff. It ran 
like a great wall, right and left, for miles and 


THE HAWKER COMES TO UNDER 13 


miles ; and the cloud of smoke that always roofed 
the city hung against it half-way up, and hid the 
top. John stood balancing himself on the edge 
of the pavement in the httle street. He often 
came here on his wanderings, to look up at the 
chff for a moment or two before he went on his 
way again, walking anywhere and nowhere till 
it was time to go home and help his mother get 
the tea. 

At his back were the crowds of Under, thrust- 
ing about in their shut-up streets. The roar of 
their traffic and activity went up behind him 
like a cloud. He must presently turn back 
into it, into the swirl and push and heat, where 
there was no room and no silence and no company, 
where every one was doing so much that there 
was nothing one could do, where, when one was 
short, one walked for ever down among the 
other people’s legs. Before him stood the wall 
that guarded the invisible hills. Up in those 
hills there must be room for anybody. There 
might be company up there too — strange com- 
pany, perhaps, according to old Mother Letitlie. 
John felt that he would not mind much if there 
were. Nobody believed in stories like old Mother 
Letitlie’s nowadays, of course, but he could 


14 IN THE CITY OF UNDER 

have found it in his heart to wish that he had 
lived in the days when they were believed in. 
The people of those days were luckier than the 
people of these. In those days you could at least 
hope that there might be a chance of getting out 
of a place where you were bored and lonely. 
Nowadays, you knew there was no chance at 
all. Where one was, there one had to stay ; and 
it was no good minding. In a black world it 
was best to leave things be and care for nothing, 
as old Mother Letithe said. The memory of 
the words in which the fools who wouldn’t leave 
things be had called up the cliff long ago, came 
back to John’s mind. “ And they all disap- 
peared in the end and never came back,” said 
old Mother Letitlie. How had they done it, 
John wondered. By what way up and out had 
they vanished out of Under ? Had anybody ever, 
years and years ago, stood just where John stood 
then, and wanting to get out so badly that he 
could no longer care how he did it, looked up at 
the cliff of Under and said the Call ? John said it 
to himself aloud — to hear how it sounded : 

“ In, on, under thee 
If aught hear, if aught see, 

If aught moves, answer me.” 


THE HAWKER COMES TO UNDER 15 


A voice suddenly rose in the street near by. 
" Staves to sell, staves to sell,” it cried ; and, 
turning round, John saw a Hawker. He had a 
large bundle of roughly- carved staves on his back, 
and he was tall and lean and very ragged. 

“ Were you calling ? ” said the Hawker. 

“ Oh, no, thanks, I was only saying something 
to myself,” said John, politely. 

“ Do you want a staff ? ” said the Hawker. 

“No, thanks,” said John. 

“ Staves to sell, staves to sell,” cried the 
Hawker ; and he went on down the street. 


CHAPTER II 

The Hawker comes to Down Street 

That night John dreamed a dream. He dreamt 
that he heard a voice calling him outside the 
window. It called so insistently and clearly 
that it woke him, and he sat up in bed, startled 
and listening. But the instant he was awake 
he heard it no more. He looked round bewil- 
dered. In the dim light from the street lamp 
outside he saw the long form of James lying 
placidly asleep upon a couch strewn with the 
books and note-books he had been studying till 
their mother came up to put out the gas. The 
door was shut ; the curtains hung motionless 
at the window. There was no sound either out- 
side or in. It had been nothing but a dream, 
and John lay down again and went to sleep and 
dreamt no more. 

On Monday, when he came home from school, 
his mother met him on the doorstep with the 
little blue milk- jug, and said, “ The heat has 
16 


HAWKER COMES TO DOWN STREET 17 


turned the milk sour, and there’s none for tea. 
Will you go to the dairy across the market-place, 
John darling, and get some more.” 

The market-place was even noisier than usual, 
for every one in it appeared to be cross as well as 
busy, through feeling so hot. John threaded 
his way carefully between the booths on his 
return, trying to guard the little jug, but the 
crowd was so great that more than once an 
irritated push or thrust sent the milk flying over 
on to the ground. At this rate the jug would be 
as empty when he reached home as it had been 
when he set out. He took shelter in a corner 
between two booths and stood considering. 
The evening was near at hand, and the shadow 
of the cliff was beginning to advance slowly 
over the market-place. A cry rose suddenly 
above the turmoil, “ Staves to sell, staves to 
sell ” ; and down between the booths came a 
Hawker, carrying a bundle of staves on his back. 

“ Why are you standing there ? ” said he to 
John. 

“ Because I can’t make my way through the 
crowd without spilling the milk,” said John. 

“ But it’s growing so late,” said the Hawker. 

“ I know it is,” said John. “ I can’t help 


18 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


that. I’m afraid I shall have to stand here till 
the people are gone ; and there’s no way out of it.” 

“ But there’s a way out of everything,” said 
the Hawker, and he went on down the passage 
between the market-stalls, crying, “ Staves to 
sell, staves to sell.” And the people made way for 
his tall figure and his load, and John followed close 
behind with the little blue jug, and reached the 
edge of the market-place without spilling a drop. 

“ Thank you ! ” said he. 

“ Do you want a staff ? ” said the Hawker. 

“No, thank you,” said John. 

“ Staves to sell, staves to sell,” cried the 
Hawker, and he turned back into the market- 
place and disappeared. 

All that month the weather grew warmer and 
warmer. People said that such a summer had 
never been known in Under before, and a good 
many of them added that they would rather 
it had never been known at all. But old Mother 
Letitlie, on the other hand, said that plenty of 
such summers had been known in Under when 
she was a girl. It was just the kind of summer 
that used to come year after year, cloudless and 
brilliant, when Under was still a little village 
and the Foreigners were still in the hills. But 


HAWKER COMES TO DOWN STREET 19 


there had been no black roof of smoke then, 
added Mother Letitlie, to veil the sunshine and 
shut out the sky. 

John walked more and more slowly home from 
school every day, and often sat down to rest by 
the way, with his satchel hung on any area 
railing that came handy ; and one afternoon, 
while he was thus seated in a quiet street enjoy- 
ing the first coolness of the cliff-shadow, he heard 
again the cry that was beginning to grow familiar 
to him : “ Staves to sell, staves to sell,” and 
down the street came the Hawker. 

“ Why are you sitting on the pavement ? ” 
said he to John. 

“ Well, because there’s nowhere else to sit,” 
said John. 

“ But it’s so hot,” said the Hawker. 

“ It’s hot everywhere, Hawker,” said John. 
“ There’s no way out of that'' 

“ But there’s a way out of everything,” said 
the Hawker ; and just at that moment a Butcher 
carrying a tray came hurrying round the corner 
of another street and ran into him. The corner 
of the tray on the Butcher’s head caught a corner 
of the Hawker’s load, and one staff slipped from 
the cord that bound it. The next instant all 


20 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


the others came after it, slithering down in a 
torrent off the Hawker’s shoulders into the dust. 

“ Why can’t you look where you’re a-goin’ 
to ? ” cried the Butcher angrily. “ A-takin’ the 
middle of the street as if the ’ole place belonged 
to you. There’s others about on business beside 
yourself, my good fellow,” and he hurried on. 

The Hawker stood in the midst of his strewn 
belongings and gazed after the Butcher, and 
John felt sorry for him. So he arose from the 
pavement and went to help him pick up his 
staves. But before he could reach the spot the 
Butcher had paused, hesitated, turned round, 
and hurried back also. 

“ ’Ere’s a queer thing,” he said when he 
arrived. “ I seem to ’ave lorst meself. I could 
a sworn a minit ago that I was in Boore Street.” 

“ So you are,” said John, surprised. 

“ I am, am I ? ” said the Butcher, equally 
surprised. “ Well, it’s a part of Boore Street 
I never see before, that’s all 1 know. ’Ow do 
I get into Bettering Square ? ” 

“ The way you were going,” said John, “ and 
the first turn to the right.” 

“ Oh, so I do,” said the Butcher, and he 
hastened straight on, 


HAWKER COMES TO DOWN STREET 21 

“ No, the way you were going,” said John. 
“ That’s exactly the opposite way.” 

“ Oh, so it is,” said the Butcher, and he turned 
abruptly to the left and began to chmb the area 
raihngs of the nearest house. 

John contemplated him in great astonishment. 

“ I thought you wanted to go to Bettering 
Square,” he said. 

“ Oh, so I do,” said the Butcher, and he 
climbed down the area railings and hurried 
straight across the road, dashing his tray with 
such force into a lamp-post on the opposite 
pavement that he flew backwards with the shock. 
He gave it up, turned to John and the Hawker, 
and looked from one to the other with a pale face. 

“ What’s ’appened to me, I arsk you ? ” he 
said, trembling. 

“ You’re on the wrong road, you see,” said 
the Hawker. 

“ I know I am,” said the Butcher faintly, 
gazing at the Hawker. 

“ You’d better try and get on the right one, 
I think,” said the Hawker. 

“ I know I’d better,” said the Butcher ; and 
he began to pick up staves so fast that he could 
hardly hold them as he picked them. J ohn and the 


22 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


Hawker helped him, and when all the staves were 
gathered up and tied together, the Butcher in trem- 
bhng haste bound them to the Hawker’s shoulders. 

“ The first turn to the right,” said the Hawker, 
“ will lead you into Bettering Square.” 

“ I know it will,” said the Butcher, and he 
fled down the street without another word and 
flashed round the corner into Bettering Square 
as fast as his twinkhng legs would carry him. 

John gazed after him in amazement. “ He 
must have been ill,” he said; for no other 
explanation occurred to him. 

“ Well, it doesn’t follow,” said the Hawker. 
“ He was certainly lost, but then there are heaps 
of people lost, and more that haven’t so much 
as started. Do you want a staff ? ” 

“ No, thanks,” said John. 

“ But I have all sorts of staves,” said the 
Hawker. “ Staves for slack feet and heavy hills ; 
staves for the road’s beginning, and staves for 
its far-off end. How will you climb the chff if 
you won’t take a staff of me ? ” 

“ Climb the cliff ! ” repeated John, astonished. 
“ Do you mean the cliff of Under, Hawker ? It 
would take a pretty strong staff to help me chmb 
that.” 


HAWKER COMES TO DOWN STREET 23 

“ No stronger than many I have, though I 
mayn’t carry them under my arm,” said the 
Hawker. 

“ Well, but I’m afraid I haven’t any money 
to buy any sort of staff with, thank you,” said 
John, “ so there’s no way out of that ; and if I 
had, there’s no way up the chff of Under, so 
there’s no way out of that either.” 

“ But there’s a way out of everything,” said 
the Hawker ; and he went away down the 
street crying, “ Staves to sell, staves to sell.” 

Three nights later John dreamt again, and 
again he dreamed the same dream. Again the 
calhng voice awoke him, but when he sat up to 
listen he could hear nothing. The night was so 
hot, however, that this time he did not go to 
sleep again. He lay gazing at the light on the 
wall from the street lamp outside. There was 
no sound outside or in. James lay deep in his 
usual absorbed slumber, and the last inhabitant 
of Down Street had reluctantly decided that 
unless he went to his bed it would be time to 
get out of it before he got in. The only thing 
moving in Down Street was the faint, cool wind 
that came down from the hills into Under when 
the chff- shadow began to move over the city, 


24 


IN THE CITY OP UNHEH 


and blew seawards through the streets all night. 
John saw the curtains moving softly out from the 
window, and, getting out of bed, went to seek air. 

All the windows opposite were dark, and the 
street was empty. A low sky hung over the city, 
and along the pavements the gas lamps burnt 
without a flicker. Suddenly the sound of a 
footstep arose in the silence. John heard it 
drawing nearer and nearer through the night. 
Some one was coming to Down Street — a police- 
man, or some workman who had been working 
overtime at his factory. 

Kef reshed by the breeze, John was just about 
to turn from the window and go back to bed, 
when he caught sight of a flgure coming up the 
middle of the street between the gas lamps. 
He paused in surprise. It was the figure of a 
man with a load on his back. The Hawker had 
come to Down Street. 

He came along till he was under the gas lamp, 
and there he stopped and looked up at John. 

“ Do you want a staff ? ” said he. 

“ Well, I never heard of a Hawker before who 
tried to sell his wares to a person in a night- 
shirt at a window in the middle of the night ! ” 
said John, leaning out of the little top window. 


HAWKER COMES TO DOWN STREET 25 

“ I must offer you my wares where I find you,” 
said the Hawker. “ How long is it going to be 
before you understand ? Don’t you hear the 
breeze blowing and the trees rustling far up in 
the hills over Under ? Will you stay down here 
in the City of Under for ever ? ” 

“ How can I help staying down here ? ” said 
John, astonished. “ How could I possibly get 
up to the hills over Under ? ” 

“ Climb there,” said the Hawker. 

“ Climb ! ” repeated John, gazing down at the 
Hawker in still greater surprise. “ What are 
you talking about. Hawker ? How could I chmb 
the cHff of Under ? There’s no way to climb by.” 

“ Have you looked for a way ? ” said the 
Hawker. 

“ There’s no way to look for,” said John. 

“ But there are ways out of everything every- 
where,” said the Hawker; and he pulled his 
load higher on to his shoulders and went away 
down the middle of the street. 

They had spoken in low voices. There was no 
sound in Down Street, and James still slumbered 
undisturbed. John went back to bed, and lay there, 
looking at the light on the wall, and thinking. 


CHAPTER III 
The Forests on the Hills 

The next morning, on his way to school, John 
paused at old Mother Letithe’s doorstep. 

“ I rather think of going to see if I can find 
a way up the chff of Under,” said he. 

“ Gracious save and bless us, what nonsense 
is this ! ” said old Mother Letitlie irritably. 
“ There isn’t a way to find except a way you 
couldn’t go by alone if you did find it. So you 
may as well leave that be, my lad.” 

“ Well, you can’t be sure there isn’t another 
sort of way till you’ve looked for it, you see,” 
said John, “ and nobody ever has.” 

“ What’s it to you whether there’s a way or 
not,” said old Mother Letitlie. 

“ I think I would rather hke to get up to 
the hills and the woods,” said John, considering. 

“ You might get up to a good deal worse than 
the hills and the woods,” said Mother Letithe. 
“ You leave things be, my lad, or you’ll be sorry. 

26 


THE FORESTS ON THE HILLS 27 

However, you won’t get up to anything, so there’s 
no need for talking, and so long as you don’t 
come stroodhng in and out disturbing me about 
it, I don’t care where you try and get,” said old 
Mother Letithe, folding her hands in her lap and 
gazing out at Down Street. 

When he came out of school that afternoon, 
John walked to the little street by the local 
railways, and looked across the waste lands at 
the cliff. Silent and mighty, it rose into the 
still afternoon air. “ It’s much best to leave 
things be,” said old Mother Letitlie’s voice in 
his mind, and that was certainly true enough. 
“ But there’s a way out of everything,” said 
the voice of the Hawker, and that might be true 
too ; and if there was really a way out of Under 
up the cliff to the hills and the woods, it was 
the first thing worth attention that John had 
met with since he came to Under. Should it 
turn out to be a way that required a very great 
effort, one could always return to one’s con- 
viction that it was much best to leave things 
be, and go home again to Under. 

So John crossed the railways by the wooden 
bridge at the nearest station, and descending 
into the station approach on the further side, 


28 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


saw, in tlie left-hand corner of the high hoardings 
that surrounded it, an old broken gate swinging 
on a rusty hinge. He went through it, and 
found himself on an unused grass-grown cart- 
track that ran between the fenced raihngs and the 
waste lands, and stretched far into the distance. 

Straight down the cart-track John went for 
about half a mile. Nobody had paid any heed 
to him. The people of Under seldom paid heed 
to anybody unless they had to. They were too 
busy getting themselves paid things — salaries, 
or wages, or profits, as the case might be — and 
no one had troubled so much as to glance at 
John as he crossed the bridge and went through 
the old gate. The waste lands here belonged 
to the railway company, and they used them 
as one uses a cupboard under the stairs. They 
stowed away upon them all the things they 
would never want again, but could not bring 
themselves to throw away in case they ever did. 
There were towering bramble-grown hillocks of 
old iron and broken engines and worn-out 
carriages and rotten sleepers and scrapped 
machinery ; and little grass-grown paths wound 
in and out between them and led to the chff ; 
and when John turned ofi the cart-track on to the 


THE FORESTS ON THE HILLS 29 


waste lands, the hillocks hid him completely 
from view. 

If the cliff looked high from the city, it looked 
infinitely higher when one stood at its foot. It 
stretched up above one, tier upon tier, dark 
and sheer and tremendous. 

“ I don’t see how it’s possible that there can 
be a way up this,” said John, standing like a 
speck in the grass far below. He turned south- 
wards and walked along doubtfully. The station 
dropped further and further behind him. The 
sound of the city and the railways came faintly 
across the open spaces. Every step took him 
deeper into the loneliness and quiet of the waste 
lands and their shadow ; and the hot wind came 
sighing over the grass to meet him. He walked 
for about a mile. Not a line, not a seam, broke 
the smoothness of the great shoulders of rock 
that rose beside him. It was as old Mother 
Letitlie said, and as the people of Under had for 
so many centuries believed. There was no way 
up the cliff except for feet that needed no way 
made for them ; and the Hawker’s bold words 
had been the ignorant words of a fool. 

So John turned to go home ; and as he turned 
the wind rose with a stronger sigh, and brought 


30 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


with, it the sound of running water. John 
paused. It was hot, and he had walked far. 
From the further side of a piece of rock that 
jutted out from the foot of the cliff in a peculiar 
manner some little way ahead, the wind brought 
again the faint and musical tinkle. He made for it, 
and walking round the jutting rock, came to a dead 
stop, for there before him was a way up the chff . 

It was easy to see how it had been made. 
For hundreds of years a little stream, flowing 
from some spring far away up in the woods, 
had come dropping from point to point down 
the face of the cliff. Every year it had worn 
its channel a little deeper and made its borders 
a little greener and carried down more of the 
soft shale and earth, and left the edges of bed- 
rock, that could neither be worn nor carried 
away, standing out more sharply from its sides. 
Now its path rose deeply through the cliff, like 
a steep and irregular stairway. 

John Hazard stood staring at it. He had for- 
gotten that he was tired and thirsty. “ It’s 
this way or none,” said he; and he laid his 
satchel on the grass, and all alone, with the 
distant roar of the city behind him, he started 
to climb the cliff of Under, 


THE FORESTS ON THE HILLS 31 

Over and over again did he nearly come to 
the conclusion that nothing in the world could 
be worth such a struggle as this was proving to 
be, and that it would be much better to climb 
straight down again without waiting to fall 
down, and spend the rest of his days in Under 
leaving things be. Sometimes the projecting 
rocks were so far apart that when he stood on one 
he could only just reach the next with his finger- 
tips ; and sometimes he could not reach it at all 
and had to pull himself cautiously up by tufts 
and bushes that threatened every second to 
give way and send him flying. The hot weather 
had reduced the little stream to a trickle, but 
even so it was impossible to climb in it without 
soaking one’s knees and sleeves and feet, and 
most of the footholds were slippery with wet moss. 
John scratched and bruised himself, and tore 
his clothes, and ached with the violence of his 
efforts ; and before he had climbed very far he 
could not look down because it made him giddy 
to see how far he had to fall if he fell, and he 
could not look up because it made him giddy 
to see how far he had to climb if he did not fall. 
But every time, after sitting breathless and 
irresolute on rocky pinnacles making up his mind 


32 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


that he would climb no further, he did climb 
further. It began to dawn on him as he went 
higher and higher that, however difficult it 
might be, he was certainly finding a way where 
way there was supposed to be none ; and every 
time he paused to see how far he had come, 
it seemed a pity not to see if he could not get 
a little further yet. So he went on. Lower 
and lower beneath him fell the streets and 
squares of Under, till the town looked like a 
little play- city set in the green plain. Its 
distant roar died to a murmur ; and soon he 
was so high that the only sound in the silence 
was the rattle of small stones he himself set 
falling. It seemed to him now that he must be 
very near the top. He took a firm hold of the 
rocks, and leant back to look up. He nearly 
climbed down on the spot, so huge were the 
stretches of cliff-side that still hung unbroken 
over his head. He forced himself up for another 
long reach ; and again, when he leaned out 
from the cliff to look up, he saw the green channel 
rising and rising into space above him. 

“ I can’t go on at this much longer,” he said to 
himself as he sat tired and panting on a boulder. 

The sun touched the hills at that moment ; 


THE FORESTS ON THE HILLS 33 


and far below the cliS-shadow began to move 
forward over the plain, and the first cool night- 
wind came blowing from the invisible woods. 
It blew down the channel upon John, and with 
it, twisting and fluttering, fell a fresh green leaf. 

“ The tree that that came from can’t be very 
far away,” thought John to himself, and he 
set his face to the cliff and started once more. 
He climbed a long way before, too breathless 
to go another yard without rest, he allowed 
himself to pause, and again gaze up. 

This time, high above him, so high still that 
he could only just catch a glimpse of it by 
straining far backwards, there hung a line of 
green — a distant edge — the edge of the forests 
upon the hills. As far as the chff of Under 
was concerned, at any rate, the Hawker had 
been right. There was a way out of the city, 
and John had found it. 

Late that night, just as his mother, feehng a 
little anxious about him, was hastening down- 
stairs to get his supper ready after hastening 
upstairs to turn down the beds, the front door 
suddenly opened and John himself appeared. 
He was wet and dirty from head to foot in front 
and behind; his collar hung down his back, 

c 


34 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


one bootlace trailed far behind him, his cap was 
stufied into a torn pocket, and his arms were 
full of the boughs of forest trees. “ John 
darling I ” ejaculated his mother ; and she was 
so much surprised at his unwonted aspect, and 
at the burden he carried, that she sat down on 
the stairs. 

The next morning John left for school rather 
earher than usual, and stopped at Mother 
Letithe’s doorstep on his road. 

“ I’ve found a way up the cliff of Under,” 
said he. 

“ There isn’t a way to find,” said old Mother 
Letitlie. 

“ But I have found one,” said John. 

“You couldn’t have,” said old Mother Letitlie. 

“ But I truly have found one,” said John. 

“ Then don’t come stroodhng in and out dis- 
turbing me about it,” said old Mother Letitlie 
irritably, “ for it’s the same to me what you’ve 
found. If you Hke to go climbing where no- 
body’s ever been before except fools that couldn’t 
leave things be and those that had better never 
have been anywhere, it’s your own affair. I don’t 
care if you want to go rushing up precipices 
when you’d much better set where you are and 


THE FORESTS ON THE HILLS 35 

leave things be in a black world,” said old Mother 
Letitlie, folding her hands and gazing out at 
Down Street. She was the only person, beside 
his mother, to whom John spoke of his dis- 
covery, and his mother was so busy inside her 
house that she had hardly any attention to spare 
for anything that was not inside it with her. 
All she said was, “ Be careful coming down, 
John darhng, for it does look horribly high, and 
when next you go up hadn’t you better put on 
your oldest suit ? ” John had for a moment 
thought of telhng the Ironmonger’s Son also, 
but after a brief consideration he dismissed the 
idea. A secret is a thing you only share with 
a friend, and he did not wish to share his secret 
with somebody who was not in the least his 
friend, however often he might be obhged to 
be glad of his company. Besides, a secret told 
to the Ironmonger’s Son very soon left ofE being 
a secret, for he was the sort of little boy who 
instantly told everything to everybody. 

So when John walked out of Down Street again 
on his way to the cliff of Under, he walked alone. 

It took so long to climb up that it was httle 
use going except on Saturdays. On week days 
he did not get out of school till five ; and if he 


36 IN THE CITY OF UNDER 

went after five it was almost time to come down 
by the time he was up. But on Saturdays school 
was over at one o’clock, and every Saturday by 
half -past one John was on his way up the cliff 
to the woods. There he would wander till the 
night fell, all alone among the bracken and the 
glades, paddhng and fishing in the streams, 
watching the woodland creatures, climbing the 
great trees, finding new haunts every week, and 
new flowers to take down to his mother in Down 
Street. There was room and company and 
silence and song and shade and sunlight and 
endless things to do and see and hear up in the 
forests ; and the dirt and crowds and lonehness 
of the City of Under mattered to John no more. 

One afternoon he climbed an old stone pine 
that stood alone on a knoll high above the other 
trees. Sitting in its topmost branches, he could 
look across the green sea of the forests in all 
directions, and he saw for the first time the 
abrupt spurs of the long line of treeless uplands 
that edged the forests in the west. If you went 
straight up through the trees from the cliff you 
came to these uplands in no very great space of 
time ; but right or left, parallel with the cliff, 
you might walk mile after mile and still be in the 


THE FOEESTS ON THE HILLS 37 

forests. Behind the uplands ran the railway 
and the highway, making for the break in the 
hills ten miles further along ; and the merchants 
of Under journeyed up and down from Under 
by them, travelling along behind the hills with 
their heads full of figures and their eyes fixed 
on whatever happened to be opposite them, 
which was generally an advertisement of a new 
way not to be seasick or have corns. Some of 
the spurs of the uplands ran out into the forests, 
and stood up above the trees, high and shining, 
golden with gorse. John descended from the 
old stone pine, and set out for them. 

He walked a long way, going up through the 
trees in as straight a fine as he could guess at, 
and presently the slopes began to rise more 
sharply and the light of open spaces gleamed 
beyond the tree-trunlcs ; and a moment later 
he came out on the edge of a long narrow glade 
that ran down into the forest from the foot of 
a high bare spur. At the further end the spur 
hfted itself abruptly into the sunshine ; at the 
lower end, deep and dark among the bracken 
between the closing trees, near a curious long 
turf-covered mound that rose amid the fern, 
there stood a httle house. 


CHAPTER IV 
The Ironmonger’s Son 

John stopped in surprise. It was the first sign 
he had come across that there might be some- 
body beside himself up in the forests. The 
little house was built of turf sods and roofed 
with dry bracken ; and its windows were 
shuttered with wooden shutters and its door 
was closed and chained. 

John walked round it, wondering, but on no 
side of it was there anything to be seen or 
discovered. It stood without a sign of life, 
silent and shut. He went on his way towards 
the further end of the glade, but every now and 
again he turned round and walked backwards 
for a few steps that he might look at the little 
house again and consider it ; and it was while 
he was doing this that a hand came suddenly 
down on his shoulder and a voice said : 

“ Is that door chained ? ” 

John, greatly startled, twisted himself round. 


THE IRONMONGER’S SON 


39 


He found himself in the grasp of a big burly 
man with black hair, who stood holding him and 
gazing over his head at the httle house. 

“ Yes,” said John. 

“ And the shutters up ? ” said the man 
anxiously. 

“ Yes,” said John. 

“ Then ’e’s not there,” said the man. He let 
his hand fall. “ Well, I shan’t try again,” he 
said. “ It’s never no good tryin’ no think. I 
shall just go ’ome again an’ let things be, an’ I 
wish I’d always let things be, a-comin’ all this 
way up from Under to find ’im gone. I thought 
the place looked empty — an’ me with business 
I can’t speak to ’im about in the markets ’owever 
orften I might find ’im there. Well, I shall 
let things be now anyway, upstair lodger or no 
upstair lodger, and if Wilhum wants to run ’is 
’ead into a noose, Willium must do. I come all 
this way to try an’ get something as would stop 
Willium runnin’ ’is ’ead into a noose, an’ now 
the ’Awker aint ’ere to give it me. Not as I 
believe I should ’ave got anythink as would ’ave 
done any good. Nothink’s ever any good. 
It’s a fool’s notion, any’ow. Oo’d believe in 
such rubbidge ? An’ yet there’s no denyin’ 


40 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


they’ve worked for some — yes, there’s no denyin’ 
they’ve worked for some. But I shan’t try 
again. I shall leave things be.” 

He turned about and plunged into the forest, 
and John heard his heavy steps crashing further 
and further away, apparently in the direction 
of the uplands. He was still standing staring 
in bewilderment at the place where the man had 
disappeared, when he heard another step behind 
him, and turned round in fresh surprise. Another 
man — a man with a load on his back — was just 
coming through the trees at the lower end of 
the glade. 

He emerged from the trees, crossed to the 
little house, let first his load and then himself 
down on to the grass beside it, and stretched his 
arms with a sigh of relief. 

“ Ugh, the city of Under ! ” he said, “ I’m 
glad to be out of it.” 

“Do you live up here ? ” said John in astonish- 
ment. 

“ Sometimes,” said the Hawker. 

“ But how do you get up ? ” said John. 
“Do you climb up by the waterfall ? ” 

“ Never,” said the Hawker. “ There’s more 
than one road to most places, you know. There’s 


THE lEONMONGER’S SON 


41 


the way that that man came by who was here 
just now, for instance — the same way by which he 
is hurrying miserably home again at this moment 
because he didn’t instantly succeed in finding 
the person he wanted and the thing he sought.” 

“ And how did he get up ? ” said John. 

“ By the goods train which starts from the 
City of Under at four in the morning,” said the 
Hawker. “ Behind the uplands there, there’s 
a little platform at which the old goods engines 
stop after their long climb up the valley ten 
miles away and their long run along the table- 
land behind the uplands. There they halt for 
water and repairs, and there, if the guard of the 
goods train has been given money down in 
Under, he will let a passenger alight.” 

“ Do you give him money to let you alight ? ” 
said John. 

“ No,” said the Hawker. “ I once gave him 
something else. But it’s more sending on than 
alighting that he lets me do. Well, when the 
passenger has alighted, he crosses the tableland, 
and climbs up and down among the uplands till 
he reaches the edge of the forest, and finds his 
way here after long searching. And he goes 
back by the same way. It takes the best part 


42 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 

of a day and two nights, and it costs the best 
part of five shilhngs, but it’s a good enough way 
for those who only come up from Under to go 
back there again. Ugh, the people of Under ! ” 
said the Hawker, lying back among the bracken 
and gazing up at the sky with a sigh. 

“ Well, I thought there was only me up in the 
forests,” said John with a sigh. 

“ There is only you and me,” said the Hawker. 
“ That’s not so very many, you know. There’s 
plenty of room. The people of Under never 
come further than the edge of the forest, and 
they only come that far for what they can get. 
What do they care about forests ? They prefer 
the City of Under. Who in the city of Under 
ever gives a thought to the hills and the woods 
on the top of the clifi ? They are much too busy 
putting things in carts to rush somewhere and 
take them out again, or buying things without 
any money and selling them when they aren’t 
there to sell. But you, you were different. So 
here you are. Though you took a long time 
getting here, didn’t you ? And now,” said the 
Hawker, turning on his side and lying with his 
head on his arm looking at John, “ where 
next ? ” 


THE IRONMONGER’S SON 


43 


Where next ? ” repeated John, puzzled. 

“ Yes,” said the Hawker. “ There are more 
staves where the first one came from, you know, 
and that one didn’t come from my shoulders. 
What after this ? ” 

“ I don’t understand quite all you say. Hawker,” 
said John politely, after a moment’s thought, 

but if you mean where am I going to after this, 
it’s getting rather late and I’m going home to 
Under.” 

“ That’s not much of a place to be going home 
to,” said the Hawker, turning on his back again 
and gazing up at the sky. 

No, it isn’t,” assented John with a sigh. 
“ But it can’t be helped. I wish I needn’t. 
I wish I could stay up here for ever and ever, 
and never see Down Street again. But when 
people are poor they’ve got to live where they 
must, of course, and not where they want to, and 
there’s no way out of it.” 

The Hawker turned his head and looked at 
John again. After a moment’s silence, he rose. 
“ There’s a way out of everything,” he said. 
He went to the little house, and let down the 
chain of the door. “ Good-night,” he said, and 
disappeared inside. 


44 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


When John passed through Down Street that 
night Mother Letitlie’s door was empty. The 
night was so hot that it had proved too warm 
even for old Mother Letithe to let it be, and she 
had gone in a state of irritation to bed. But he 
met the Ironmonger’s Son. The Ironmonger’s 
Son, accompanied by several of his friends, was 
strolhng loftily in the hght of his father’s shop, 
which was open late because it was Saturday 
night. 

“ Hullo,” said John pohtely, as he passed by, 
but the Ironmonger’s Son was weeding his 
acquaintance with a view to the future and he 
walked on still more loftily. “ Yah, gentleman,” 
said he with contempt. “Yah, gentleman,” 
said all the little boys who were assiduously 
walking with the Ironmonger’s Son in the hope of 
not being weeded. John, wearing his patched 
knickerbockers and carrying his little bundle of 
leaves and flowers for his mother, passed thought- 
fully upon his road. 

By half-past eight, he and his mother were 
washing up the supper things in the basement 
kitchen of No. 179. The girl who came to 
“ help ” and never helped at all, had left off 
trying to on account of the toothache, and had 


THE IRONMONGER’S SON 


45 


gone home. Amoris Ellen was singing in the 
parlour on the first floor ; James was plunged 
in study in the dining-room on the ground 
floor. John and his mother were alone together 
except for the supper things ; and though these 
took up a good deal of attention, it was possible 
to attend to other things at the same time. 
John related the events of the day to his mother 
while they scraped and washed and dried cups 
and saucers and plates together ; and his mother 
said “ gracious, John darhng,” as was her wont, 
whenever the course of his narrative appeared 
to demand it. But when he came to the incident 
of the Ironmonger’s Son, she paused with a plate 
in one hand and a dish-cloth in the other, and 
said : 

“Who is the Ironmonger’s Son, John darhng ? ” 

John explained. 

“ That stout child in second-hand Etons from 
the saucepan shop at the corner ? ” said his 
mother. 

“ Yes,” said John, mentally endeavouring 
to reconcile this description with the beautiful 
picture presented to an admiring and envious 
Down Street by the Ironmonger’s Son in his best 
suit on a Sunday. 


46 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


“ My dear John ! ” said his mother. “Do 
you know children of that kind ? ” 

“ Well, I don’t actually know them,” said 
John “ because they won’t know me. That’s 
more it.” 

“ They won’t know you,” ejaculated his 
mother. 

“ No,” said John. 

He was surprised to see that for some reason 
or other his mother appeared to take this much 
to heart. She looked at John a moment ; then 
she left ofE washing up, and, sitting down on a 
chair with a plate in one hand and a dishcloth 
in the other, she looked at the floor as though 
she were looking at something she could see 
through no more than she could the floor. 
John, regarding her anxiously, was dismayed to 
see two tears roll slowly down her face. 

“ What did I say ? ” he said with horror. 

“ You didn’t say anything,” said his mother, 
rousing herself with a sigh. 

“ I must have,” said John, “ You’re crying.” 

“I’m not, John darling. You didn’t,” said 
his mother; and she dried her eyes on the 
dishcloth. But she still sat on the chair as though 
for the moment she felt she could not get ofi it 


THE mONMONGEE^S SON 


47 


and go on washing up. “ It was only,” she said, 
“ I don’t know why — but somehow something 
made me feel for a second as if things were going 
all wrong in spite of all I do to try and make 
them go right.” 

The voice of Amoris Ellen singing higher and 
higher to the tinkling accompaniment of the 
old piano came floating faintly down to the 
kitchen ; and in the dining-room directly over- 
head they heard the regular tread of James, as 
he walked up and down pondering abstruse 
problems on the path his nightly studies had 
worn in the carpet. 

“ Listen to those children,” said John’s mother, 
sighing. “ I am sometimes afraid they are 
both of them geniuses, and how they will take it 
when they really understand that the things they 
can do so well are the things they are never going 
to be able to do, I don’t know.” 

“ Aren’t they ever going to be able to do the 
things they can do so well ? ” said John. 

“ Never,” said his mother. “ We are too 
poor. Mr. Whillipson was here to-day to bring 
James some old professor’s treatise about a 
solar something or other that James couldn’t 
afford to buy, and he was begging me again to 


48 


IN THE CITY OF UNDEK 


keep the rest of us on bread and water in order 
that James may go on with his mathematics for 
another year and try for an astronomical scholar- 
ship. But it would hardly keep even him, poor 
boy, even if he won it, and it would certainly 
bring the rest of us in nothing for years to come. 
I have had to count all along on his beginning to 
earn something for us all when he is seventeen ; 
and he is seventeen next term. And as for your 
sister — even if she were to mn a scholarship at 
a musical college, as she wants me to try and let 
her do, she would need good clothes and pocket 
money, and I can give her neither. She must 
just go out as a nursery governess some day, and 
I don’t know whether an extraordinary capacity 
for singing higher and higher is an accompUsh- 
ment that will make up in a nursery governess 
for the lack of all other accomplishments. I’m 
rather afraid it isn’t, John darling.” 

“ What is a genius ? ” said John. 

“ Nobody quite knows,” said his mother. 
“ But they are generally people who are no good 
to those who love them and a great deal of good 
to thousands who don’t.” 

John’s pity for a genius, already of a considera- 
able depth owing to his contemplation of James 


THE IRONMONGER'S SON 


49 


and Amoris Ellen, was greatly increased by this 
definition. He embraced his mother with silent 
sympathy. 

“ And now,” said his mother, “ you come and 
tell me that a dreadful little saucepan-maker’s 
son doesn’t think you good enough to associate 
with him ! Oh, John darling, it would be so 
encouraging if even only one of you could begin 
to make a little money ! It would make me 
feel as if there really were still perhaps the 
ghost of a chance that there might, some day, 
be a way for some of us out of Down Street.” 

Before he went up to bed that night, John 
walked out to the doorstep to get a breath of air. 
Behind him his mother went about the little 
house, putting the last things to rights in it 
before she shut it up for the night, and Amoris 
Ellen still sang softly in the parlour upstairs. 
John sat on the doorstep alone, tired from his 
long afternoon in the hills, looking out at Down 
Street and thinking. He was thinking of all the 
things his mother had told him that evening. 
They were things he had always known, when he 
came to think of it, but then he had never come 
to think of them so clearly before. He could see 
little use in coming to think of them now. What 


50 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


could he do to alter them ? How could a boy of 
twelve, and small at that, find any way of earning 
enough money to move a whole family out of 
Down Street ? There was no use whatever in 
thinking of it ! Here they were, and here they 

must all stay, for there was no way 

“ Are you asleep ? ” said a voice, and John 
looked up with a start. A little girl with a 
sorrowful face and a pair of dark eyes stood on 
the pavement in front of him. 

“ No,” said John. 

“ Well, I thought you were,” said the httle 
girl. “ I’ve spoken to you twice, and you never 
answered. We’ve heard that a Hawker who 
sells carved staves and helps people to escape 
out of Under, lives down this street. Do you 
know in which house he hves ? ” 

“ I’m afraid I’ve never heard of any Hawker 
living in this street,” said John. 

“ Well, we’ve asked here and we’ve asked 
there,” said the little girl, with a sigh, “ and 
they say he’s been seen down this way late 
at night when nobody is about.” 

“ The only Hawker I know who sells staves 
lives up in the woods on the top of the cliff,” 
said John, 


THE IRONMONGER'S SON 51 

“ On the top of the cliff ! ” repeated the httle 
girl in dismay. 

“ But I believe he sells his wares in the mar- 
kets,” said John. 

“ Hast thou found him, hast thou found 
him ? ” said a woman with a hooked nose, hurry- 
ing anxiously up. 

“ No,” said the httle girl, “ But this httle 
boy says he sells his wares in the markets.” 

“ Why do you want to find him ? ” said 
John. 

“ Because they say he finds a way of escape 
for all who go to him in trouble,” said the woman, 
“ a way out of every difficulty ; a way out for 
all. And we must find him, we must find 
him, for the httle Papa grows so venturesome, 
and the upstairs lodger has come to the Waysend 
Inn, and at any moment it may be time to 
fly.” 

“ Come in, John darhng, I must lock the door,” 
said his mother, appearing in the doorway. 

“ Come away, come away,” said the woman, 
seizing the httle girl by the, arm. 

" Oh, dear me ! oh, dear me ! ” said the httle 
girl, and they were gone. 


CHAPTEE V 

The Advent of Augustus 

The next Saturday was Fair Saturday, so John 
could not climb up the chfE of Under. On 
Fair Saturday things were cheaper in the markets 
of Under than on any other day of the year, 
and John’s mother, trying not to beheve that 
they were only cheaper because they were 
worse, always went marketing on Fair Saturday, 
and laid in her stores for the year ; and John 
went with her to help carry the parcels. When 
they had finished marketing, John’s mother said 
with a sigh that she wondered whether you 
really got things any cheaper on Fair market-day 
than on any other day, which was what she 
wondered every year; and they went home- 
wards. 

But as John, laden with parcels, was following 
his mother through the crowd, a cry suddenly 
rose above the turmoil — “ Staves to sell, staves 
to sell,” and John paused. 

52 


THE ADVENT OF AUGUSTUS 53 

“ Would it matter if I came home a little 
later ? ” he said. “ There’s someone here I want 
to see first.” 

“ Very well, John darling, only be careful of 
the parcels,” said his mother. 

So John turned back alone into the markets, 
and found the Hawker without difiiculty. He 
was standing in a corner by himself, with his 
staves arranged in heaps before him. “ Good 
evening,” said John, appearing suddenly. 

“ Good evening,” said the Hawker. 

‘‘ Is it true that you find ways out of things 
for people. Hawker ? ” said John, — “ ways out 
of Under, or anything of that sort.” 

“ I do sometimes,” said the Hawker. 

“ Well, I wish you could find a way for us out 
of Down Street,” said John. 

“ There’s a way out of everything for every- 
body,” said the Hawker. 

“ You’re always saying that, aren’t you ? ” 
said John pohtely. 

“ I say it because it’s true,” said the Hawker. 
“ Don’t you believe it ? ” 

“ Well, I don’t see how it can be always 
true,” said John. “ It seems to me that there 
are hundreds and hundreds of things that there’s 


54 


IN THE CITY OP UNDER 


no possible way out of. How can there possibly 
be a way out of being all by yourself, for instance, 
or twelve, or small, or things hke that ? ” 

“ Wait here a little, and you shall see a few 
things that there’s a way out of,” said the 
Hawker ; and he went on calhng his wares to 
the crowds. 

There was an old packing case lying near, 
belonging to a neighbouring stall. John arranged 
his parcels on one end of it, and sat down on the 
other to see what would happen, and presently 
two stout young people came walking by. The 
young woman hung on the young man’s arm and 
laughed archly, but she might as well have hung 
and laughed on a Corn Exchange for all the 
good she did. He walked comfortably along, 
chewing a head of oats that still had the grain 
in it, and staring stolidly about him, and he let 
her hang and laugh entirely by herself. Just 
as they came abreast of the Hawker, she suddenly 
turned red, snatched her hand out of the young 
man’s arm, slapped his face soundly and roundly, 
and disappeared into the crowds. 

This happened with such surprising sudden- 
ness that the young man sprang high into the 
air from shock, and on coming to earth again, 


THE ADVENT OF AUGUSTUS 55 


and realizing what had occurred, he stood staring 
at the place where the young woman had dis- 
appeared for fully five minutes with his mouth 
wide open. 

“Do you want that stout girl ? ” said the 
Hawker. “You will travel no further with 
such a one as she.” The young man slowly 
altered the direction of his gaze and stared at 
the Hawker some moments before he understood. 
Then he said, “ Warnt ’er ? Of course I warnt 
’er. I’m a-goin’ to marry ’er when I ’ave the 
time.” 

“ Great Jove, the people of Under ! ” said the 
Hawker, gazing back at him. “ Well, it doesn’t 
look much hke marriage for the moment, does 
it?” 

“ She’s always rushin’ orf from me hke that 
there,” said the young man gloomily. “ I 
don’ know whafior. I don’t see other young 
men’s young wimming a-doin’ of it.” 

“ You can’t keep what you don’t take,” said 
the Hawker, “ though personally, of course, I 
should ask nothing better than that she should 
rush away from me. However, you can have 
what you want if you hke to take it.” He put 
his hand into his pocket and brought out a 


56 IN THE CITY OP UNDER 

hazel nut. “ Crack that,” said he, “ and put 
the kernel into her mouth, and kiss her twenty 
times immediately afterwards without speaking 
and she will never rush away from you again.” 

“ It don’t look hke nothing more than a 
nordinary nut,” said the young man slowly. 

“ It’s a Charm,” said the Hawker. 

“ A Charm ? ” said the young man. “ Are 
you the ’Awker as sells Charms ? I’ve ’eard of 
you if you are. A Charm’s a charm, of course. 
A Charm’s a different matter. I’ll try it. What’s 
to pay ? ” 

“ Nothing,” said the Hawker. “ All Charms 
won’t work for every one. Half a sack of oat 
flour if it does.” 

“ Ow’ did you know I was a miller ? ” said the 
young man, opening his mouth wide once more, 
but the Hawker was already crying his wares 
again, “ Staves to sell, staves to sell.” 

John’s eyes were as wide open as the Miller’s 
mouth, but he sat still and waited, and presently 
a man went past with a sullen face, followed by a 
mournful-looking, dishevelled woman in a torn 
and untidy gown and a battered little hat. She 
went drifting after the man, and as she passed, 
she saw the Hawker’s wares. “ Thomas,” she 


THE ADVENT OF AUGUSTUS 57 

called, “ Stop a moment, Thomas. I think I’d 
hke one of those carved staves, Thomas.” 
Thomas did not appear to care what she thought 
she would hke. He walked on with determin- 
ation, and disappeared into the crowd. 

“ Is that your man ? ” said the Hawker. 

“ He’s my husband,” said the woman, with a 
sigh. 

“Nobody would have thought so,” said the 
Hawker. 

“ Well, I remember when first we married ” 

said the woman, the tears springing to her eyes. 

“ When first you married,” said the Hawker, 
“ I don’t suppose you looked as you look now. 
That sprig of rowans in your bodice is the only 
attractive thing about you.” 

“ Well, when Thomas took me from my father’s 
farm — — ” said the woman weeping. 

“ He must have been often sorry he didn’t 
leave you there,” said the Hawker. “You are 
one of those who, because of looking backward, 
will never go on. However, you can have what 
you want if you hke to take it.” He ran his hand 
down the edge of his ragged coat, and took out 
a needle. “ Whatever is torn in your house, or 
on yourself,” said he, “ mend it with that 


58 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


needle ; and if there are things past mending, 
which I should think very hkely, throw them 
away and make new ones with that needle. 
Then, in spite of your miserable remembering, 
your man may be glad again that he took you 
from your father’s farm, though it’s not a thing I 
should ever have done myself.” 

“ It looks hke nothing more than an ordinary 
needle,” said the woman feebly, drying her 
eyes. 

“ It’s a Charm,” said the Hawker. 

“ Oh, are you the Hawker who sells Charms ? ” 
said the woman, “ I’ve heard of you. Give it 
me. Hawker. What is there to pay ? ” 

“Nothing,” said the Hawker, “All Charms 
won’t work for everybody. A comb of moorland 
honey if it does.” 

“ How did you know I came from the moors ? ” 
said the woman, surprised ; but the Hawker had 
hfted his head and was looking silently at the 
chff. The sun had touched the top of the 
invisible hills, and far below the cHfE shadow had 
begun to move forward over the city and the 
market-place. 

John shpped off the packing-case. He had 
heard enough, and his mind was made up. He 


THE ADA^ENT OP AUGUSTUS 59 


stooped to collect liis parcels as speedily as lie 
could, but there were a good many of them, and 
it took him some time, and when he hfted him- 
self the Hawker was gone. John heard his cry 
going further and further across the market-place, 
“ Staves to sell, staves to sell,” but though he 
hastened after, he could not make sufficiently 
quick progress through the crowds for there 
to be any hope of his catching up the Hawker. 
So he went home. 

By two o’clock on the following Saturday 
afternoon, having already visited the Hawker’s 
corner in the market-place and found it empty, 
he was on his way to the chfi. By half-past 
three he was half-way through the forests, 
making for the Hawker’s glade by as straight 
a line as he could guess at. He came out under 
the uplands some way to the left of it, and 
found himself so breathless and tired with the 
haste he had made that, though visions of a 
closing door and a departing figure urged him 
onward, he sat down to rest at the foot of a 
tree. He had hardly sat a minute before there 
broke on his ear the sound of a tremendous 
crashing inside the wood, as if an elephant 
had gone mad there and was endeavouring to 


60 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


get out of the forest by the simple process of 
destroying it, so that there should be no more 
forest left to be in. John listened in surprise, 
and after a moment the noise ceased, and a loud 
voice shouted “ Hi.” John debated whether he 
should answer. He had no wish to be delayed 
on his way by any chance encounter. But the 
voice roared again, louder and more insistently 
than before, “ Hi ! I say. Hi ! ” and John felt 
it incumbent upon him to reply since he was 
plainly the only person who could. “ Hi ! ” he 
shouted, and the thrashing and crashing instantly 
recommenced, accompanied by footsteps that 
were clearly approaching with all possible speed. 

“ Where are you ? ” shouted the voice. 

“ Here,” shouted John ; and the next instant 
a large red boy burst out of the edge of the 
forest, and catching sight of John instantly 
made for him. 

“ What are you doing here ? ” he boomed 
as he bustled along. “ Do you know you’re 
trespassing ? ” 

“No,” said John, surprised. 

“ Well, you are, and so I tell you, or at least 
you very nearly are,” said the large boy. “ I’m 
Augustus Chckson, and when my father retires 


THE ADVENT OF AUGUSTUS 61 


from business and leaves Under, which we’re 
going to do next year, I mean to ask him to 
buy these woods, and build a house in them, 
so get out.” 

“ If he hasn’t bought them yet, I don’t see 
that I’m trespassing yet,” said John, con- 
sidering. 

“ Well, you very nearly are, so I tell you,” 
said the boy, “ and you’d better be jolly careful, 
anyhow. My father’s the Honourable Asaph 
CHckson.” 

“You must be very proud of him,” said 
John politely. “ My father was rather honour- 
able too. I’m glad to say. He was a V.C. It 
will be my eldest brother’s someday, of course, 
when he marries and has a son, but at present 
we can all live up to it.” 

Augustus Clickson glared at John with the 
glare of one who is uncertain whether he is 
being chaffed or not, but presently deciding with 
some surprise that he was not, he put his hands 
into his pockets and leapt thoughtfully up and 
down once or twice upon his rather large feet. 

“ Well, get out anyhow , he remarked, “ I’m 
lost and I want to get out with you. I was 
coming back from a visit to Wayport and I went 


62 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


for a little walk while the engine was watering 
at that platform up there, and I went too far 
and lost my way and couldn’t get back. I’ve 
walked and walked for hours and hours, and at 
last I got down into these beastly woods and 
I thought I was never going to get out again. 
Where are we ? ” 

“ We’re on the edge of the forests above 
Under,” said John. 

“Didn’t know there were any forests above 
Under,” said Augustus Clickson. “ Well, come 
on back to the platform, or we shall lose the 
last train down.” 

“ I’m afraid I can’t come with you to the 
platform,” said John, politely, “I’ve got to go 
somewhere else.” 

“ Where have you got to go to ? ” said 
Augustus, with instant indignation. 

“ I’ve got to go and see a Hawker,” said John. 
“ He lives in a glade over there.” 

“A Hawker, what sort of a Hawker. AVhy 
does a Hawker live up here ? ” said Augustus, 
leaping, “ I’ll come and see him with you.” 

John looked at him in some doubt. “ I shall 
have to hurry a good deal,” he said, “ it’s im- 
portant, and he vanishes hke lightning. The 


THE ADVENT OF AUGUSTUS 63 


other day I only missed him in the market by 
a minute.” 

“ My gracious, come on then,” said Augustus ; 
and he bustled off along the edge of the forest. 
John, surprised but acquiescent, hastened after 
him, and together they rushed under the trees. 
They came to the opening of the glade under 
the uplands, and turned down it, but when they 
reached the Httle house at the lower end, one 
glance was enough to tell J ohn that they had come 
in vain. The door was closed and chained, and 
the windows were shuttered. 

They walked round it ; they called and 
knocked at the shutters and the door. But 
there was no answer, and no movement within. 
“ There’s nobody here, my good chap,” said 
Augustus. “ You’ll have to come again.” 

“ It takes so long to chmb up that I can only 
come on half-hoHdays,” said John gloomily. 

“ Takes so long to climb up where ? ” said 
Augustus, surprised. 

“ Up the cliff of Under,” said John. 

“ Do you mean to say you climb the chff of 
Under ? ” cried Augustus at the top of his voice. 

“ Yes, I do,” said John reflectively. He was 
a little sorry he had told, 


64 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


Augustus was too mucli astounded even to 
leap. “ My gracious ! ” he ejaculated. “ I 
thought nobody could chmb the clifi of Under.” 

“ Nobody else does,” said John, “ there’s 
never anyone in the forest but me and the 
Hawker — except on the edge of it.” 

“ Well, my gracious ! ” repeated Augustus. 
He thrust his hands deep in his pockets and 
leapt on high. “ How does he get up here ? ” 
he said. 

“ By the railway, I suppose,” said John. 
“ Round by the gap and down across the uplands, 
as everybody else does.” 

‘‘ Well, my gracious ! ” said Augustus yet again, 
“ I thought nobody could climb the chff of Under. 
Who showed you the way up ? ” 

“ Nobody,” said John. “ The Hawker seemed 
to think there might be a way, but I found it by 
myself. I don’t suppose it’s been a way so very 
long. You can only just do it now. And it 
takes such an age I can only come on Saturdays.” 

“ It can’t take as long as coming round by 
rail, any way,” said Augustus. 

“ Oh, well, I couldn’t do that anyhow,” said 
John. “ That takes the whole day. And it 
costs too much into the bargain.” 


THE ADVENT OF AUGUSTUS 65 


“ Costs'^ said Augustus Clickson. “ It only 
costs half-a-crown third even on to Wayport. 
What’s half-a-crown ? Save it if you haven’t 
got it.” 

“You can’t save even a penny unless you 
first have a penny,” said John. 

“ And haven’t you ? ” said Augustus to this 
indisputable financial maxim. 

“ No,” said John. “ Not to spend on things.” 
He looked to see the expected change on the 
countenance of Augustus at this revelation of 
his family’s poverty, but there was no such 
change as John expected. Augustus merely put 
his hands once more into his pockets, and again 
leapt thoughtfully. 

“ My gracious ! ” he ejaculated, “ You are 
poor,” which was not a remark that could hurt 
anybody’s feelings. 

“ Yes, we are,” said John, reheved. “ I do 
have a penny a week, but it’s owed at the baker’s 
for some time to come. You get so hungry 
seeing all the other boys eat things. It’s be- 
cause we’re so poor ” He paused. One 

can be truthful about facts even in the face of 
possible contempt, but there is no obligation to 
lay oneself open to scorn by admitting one’s 

E 


66 


IN THE CITY OF UNDEE 


fancies. He glanced at Augustus Clickson, but 
tbe probable opinion of Augustus on the subject 
of charms was not to be gathered at a glance. 

“It’s because we’re so poor what ? ” inquired 
Augustus, lucidly. 

“ Nothing much,” said John ; “ I was only 
going to tell you what I wanted to see the 
Hawker for.” 

“ Well, what did you ? ” said Augustus. 

“ I wanted to see him to buy a Charm from 
him,” said John. 

“ You wanted to see the Hawker to buy a 
what ? ” shouted Augustus. 

“ A Charm,” said John. 

“ What for ? ” said Augustus, loudly. 

“ I told you,” said John. “ Because we are 
so poor.” 

“ Well, of all the silly rot ! ” cried Augustus, 
at the top of his voice. “ How’s a Charm going 
to help you ? ” 

“ Don’t you believe in them ? ” said John, 
pensively. 

Unexpected though Augustus had been on the 
question of his family’s poverty, it was evident 
that he was going, on the question of Charms, 
to be as expected as possible. 


THE ADVENT OF AUGUSTUS 67 

“ I should rather think I didrCt beheve in them,” 
said Augustus. “ Nobody but a lunatic beheves 
in Charms nowadays.” 

“Yes, some people do who aren’t,” said John, 
and he told Augustus what he had seen in the 
market-place of Under. Moved by the absorbed 
if contemptuous manner in which Augustus 
hstened, and the thoughtful way in which he 
every now and again put his hands in his pockets 
and leapt, John told him still more. He told him 
of the gloom of his family’s future, and of the 
necessity of some one’s trying to earn a Httle 
money to encourage his mother to hope that 
they might some day some of them find a way out 
of Down Street ; and he pointed out the obvious 
fact that, if anyone were to try, it must be John 
himself, since he alone of the family had not had 
the misfortune to be born a genius. But what 
way there was to find, and how John could ever 
find it alone, had seemed questions of such 
insuperable difiiculty that John had decided, on 
hearing of the Hawker’s reputation, to ask him 
for help and counsel, and had therefore sought 
him in the market and seen him selling 
Charms. 

Well, but how’s a Charm going to help you, 


68 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


idiot ! ” said Augustus, contemptuously. “ A 
Charm’s all rot, and so I tell you.” 

“ He sold two while I watched him,” said 
John. “ He seemed to feel certain that they 
would help those people to find their ways out 
all right.” 

“ He sold two things he said were Charms, I 
daresay,” said Augustus. “ How do you know they 
were, my good chap ? How do you know that 
that girl isn’t rushing off every minute of the 
day, and that that woman’s husband doesn’t 
walk away from her the instant she calls him ? ” 

John was obhged to admit that he did not 
know these things. 

Then there you are,” said Augustus, “ A 
Charm’s all rot and so I tell you.” 

“ Well, I’m not going to bother about it any 
more anyhow,” said John, resignedly. “ It’s 
never any good bothering about anything. If 
there wasn’t one thing in the way, there’d be 
sure to be another. There always is, and I shall 
just leave things be.” 

“ I don’t think you’ve got any business to, 
then, with your mother in that state, and all your 
family geniuses,” said Augustus with decision. 
“You needn’t give up hke a chicken with the 


THE ADVENT OF AUGUSTUS 69 


pip just because you can’t get a Charm. Any 
person with half an eye can see what you ought 
to do without any rotten old Charm to help them. 
You ought to be an errand-boy.” 

“ What ? ” said John, astonished. 

“ You ought to be an errand-boy,” repeated 
Augustus, “ you could start earning money at 
once if you got a job as an errand-boy. All the 
richest people were errand-boys once. You 
ought to try to get a job as an errand-boy, and 
you needn’t try alone, either. I’ll help you.” 

John gazed at him in surprise. 

“ Yes, I will,” said Augustus magnanimously. 
“ I’ll help you look for a job. I’ve got to be at 
home for ages because there’s measles at Chelten- 
ham, and there’s nothing whatever to do in a 
beastly hole hke Under. I’ll come round with 
you myself, and help you get a job.” 

“ I mightn't get one even then, you know,” 
said John doubtfully. “I’m only twelve and 
small at that, though thank you very much, of 
course.” 

“ Of course you’ll get one,” said Augustus, 
indignantly. “You’ll get one at the very first 
go off. You’ll find it a jolly different business 
to going about looking for one alone, my good 


70 


IN THE CITY OE UNDER 


chap, and so I tell you. I don’t say I can do it 
quite for nothing, of course,” added Augustus. 
“ We’ll strike a bargain. You show me the way 
up the chfi of Under, and I’ll help you get a 
job. There.” 

“ Will you swear you’ll show it to nobody 
else ? ” said John. 

“ I swear,” said Augustus Clickson. 

“ Come on then,” said John ; and they 
plunged into the woods. 


CHAPTER VI 
The Miller’s Charm 

John walked down Down Street at a little past 
five on the following Monday afternoon, and 
took his seat on Mother Letitlie’s doorstep, there 
to await the arrival of Augustus Clickson. He 
had decided to tell his mother nothing about 
his hope of becoming an errand boy. If she 
knew about it, and he did not succeed, there it 
would be, nothing but another disappointment 
for her to bear ; while if she knew nothing about 
it, things would be no worse for her if he did not 
become an errand boy than they had been before. 
Augustus was strong in his view that there 
could not possibly be any disappointment what- 
ever for her to bear in any event, but John said 
that it would be better to be safe. So they had 
arranged to meet elsewhere than at John’s home, 
and Augustus Clickson was to proceed down 
Down Street looking first for a doorway with 
an old woman sitting in it, and then for John. 

71 


72 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


“ Well, I hope you’ve given up climbing where 
you’ll get no more good than anybody else ever 
did,” said Mother Letitlie, when John arrived and 
sat down on her doorstep. 

No,” said John,” I haven’t.” 

“ Then some day you’ll go up once too often and 
never come back again,” said old Mother Letithe, 
“ I don’t know what’s taken you that you go 
stroodling in and out like this instead of sitting 
quiet and leaving things be as you used to do.” 

‘‘ Well, I like it better up there than I do down 
here, you see,” said John. 

“ Like it better ? ” said old Mother Letitlie. 
“ Where’s the use of wanting to hke things 
better ! There’s nothing in this black world 
worth hking either better or worse. Sit still in it 
and leave things be — that’s the only thing worth 
doing. Once you start moving you don’t know 
what you mayn’t find yourself having to try and 
do — and who wants to try and do anything.” 

Augustus Clickson, who had been meanwhile 
descending swiftly from Wickle Hill — which 
was where his parents lived in one of the best 
suburbs of Under — came rushing along Down 
Street at that moment, looking to right and left, 
and seeing John seated on Mother Letithe’s 


THE MILLER^S CHARM 


73 


doorstep, he came to an abrupt stop, put his hands 
in his pockets, and leapt thoughtfully on high. 

“ What’s all this ? ” said Mother Letitlie, 
emerging from her dark reflections to behold 
Augustus with strong distaste. 

“ It’s a friend of mine,” said John, arising 
from the doorstep and preparing to depart. 

“ And where are you off to now with this 
friend of yours ? ” said old Mother Letitlie. 
“ Why don’t he come and set quiet on the door- 
step if he wants to come at all, which I’d just as 
soon he didn’t if you ask my opinion.” 

“ Well, there’s something he and I have got 
to do,” explained John. “ We’re going to look 
for work for me — for a job of some sort.” 

“ A job for you ! ” said old Mother Letithe. 
“ You find a job ! You won’t find a job, and 
you the shrimp you are.” 

Of course you’ll find a job, John Hazard,” 
said Augustus Clickson with loud contempt. 
“ What does she know about it ? You’ll get a 
job this very evening. Come along and don’t 
stand talking rot.” 

When they parted a few hours later, Augustus 
was still full of contemptuous confidence. “ Only 
a fool would expect to find a good situation at the 


74 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


first go off,” he remarked, “ and I’ve said so from 
the very beginning. I’ll come again to-morrow.” 

So on Tuesday evening Augustus Clickson again 
rushed down from Wickle Hill, and on Wednes- 
day evening he was once more to be beheld doing 
the same thing, and on Thursday evening he 
came yet again. In short, on every . evening of 
the week that followed did Augustus rush from 
Wickle Hill to Down Street, and the inhabitants 
of the streets between the two places almost 
began to set their clocks by him, so punctually 
did he burst past their windows on his way. 
When John saw him coming, he now left Mother 
Letitlie’s doorstep and went to meet him, because 
Mother Letitlie had continued to behold the 
rushing arrivals of Augustus with distaste. She 
said that if John wouldn’t let things be he must 
take the consequences, and it was the same to 
her what anybody did nor didn’t do so long as 
they didn’t stroodle in and out disturbing her 
about it; but Augustus Clickson did stroodle 
in and out, and let him stroodle somewhere else. 

Alas, by the time Friday evening arrived it 
seemed as if they might just as well neither of 
them ever had stroodled anywhere, for John and 
Augustus were no nearer finding work than they 


THE MILLER^S CHARM 


75 


had been on Monday evening, and the indigna- 
tion of Augustus and the resignation of John 
had grown with the passing of every day. 
In every shop in which they had seen a card 
hanging up with “ Boy wanted ” upon it — 
and in a good many shops where there was 
no card at all — there they had entered and 
offered John’s services. But nobody seemed to 
want them ; and when they found that if they 
did want them, they could only have them before, 
between, and after his school hours, except in 
the hohdays, they wanted them still less. The 
worst of it was that several of them seemed to 
want the services of Augustus instead, which 
greatly complicated matters. Augustus was only 
a year older than John, but he was as much 
broader as he was taller, and he addressed people 
in such a loud, confident voice that he impressed 
every one as being important and desirable, and 
directly it became clear that it was not he, but the 
pale, peaked, anxious httle John who, generally 
on one leg, was offering himself for the vacant situ- 
ation, all was over and they were shown the door. 

At last John tried going in alone, while Augus- 
tus, his hands in his pockets, leapt abstractedly on 
the pavement outside. But it made no difference 


76 


IN THE CITY OP UNDER 

to the ending of the interviews. All that it did 
was to make them a good deal shorter ; and Friday 
evening came and John had found no work. 

Now, Augustus Clickson was of an ardent nature. 
Directly he thought of doing a thing he seldom 
saw any difficulties in it till he came to them, and 
after that he seldom saw anything else. He 
had walked forth with John on Monday with 
every confidence that by Tuesday or Wednesday 
at latest, John would be established in a comfort- 
able situation. On Wednesday he already sus- 
pected, with indignation, that there might be a 
few difficulties in the way. On Thursday, as 
repulse followed repulse, they both tried with so 
little heart that they might just as well not have 
tried at all ; while John’s resigned manner had 
become so resigned that, what with his resignation 
and his nervousness, he almost walked out of the 
door the instant he had made known his request, 
without waiting to have it answered. 

At last, on Friday evening, when John came 
walking dejectedly out of a shop for the third time, 
Augustus Clickson suddenly reached the point at 
which he saw nothing whatever but the diffi- 
culties, and he boomed so loudly in the street that 
several people glanced at him with interest, 


THE MILLER’S CHARM 


77 


thinking he was ill. But Augustus was not ill ; 
he was merely angry. He was angry because 
John had not found a place, and he was still 
angrier because people had not given him one 
the instant Augustus desired them to do so. He 
said at the top of his voice that it was perfectly 
ridiculous to think that anyone would ever give 
John a job when he was the size he was through 
staying so long in India, and would stand on one 
leg the whole time as if he was a chicken with the 
pip, and he, Augustus, had said so from the very 
beginning, and they had much better go home at 
once, and leave off bothering about the whole thing. 

John was perfectly ready to go home at once. 
As a matter of fact, the second time he had come 
walking out of a shop he would, had he been 
alone, have walked straight home then and there. 
Long before they came to Friday evening, he 
was only walking in and out of shops because 
Augustus Chckson led him in and out with such 
determination that John went with him whether 
he thought it any good or not, in a silent acquies- 
cence in the sanguine energies of Augustus. 
He did not think it any good. He did not think 
anything would ever be any good. He had 
always known it wouldn’t be, and it was certainly 


78 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


mucli better to leave off bothering about the 
whole business and go home, and leave things 
be. So they walked back to Down Street. 

Old Mother Letitlie was in bed by the time they 
reached it, so she did not behold this melancholy 
confirmation of her prophecy, but the rest of 
Down Street was still walking about, and it was 
an unfortunate chance which led the Ironmonger’s 
son to observe John and to miss observing Augus- 
tus Clickson when the two went dejectedly past 
him in the dusk. “ Yah, gentleman,” said the 
Ironmonger’s son ; but it was the last time he 
did say it. Augustus Chckson was already greatly 
embittered with fate, and it is a trying matter 
to be embittered with fate, because fate is not a 
thing you can hit. He instantaneously fell upon 
the Ironmonger’s son, and the Ironmonger’s son, 
with a howl of astonishment, fell to the earth. 

“ What-did-I-hear-you-calling- John Hazard ? ” 
said Augustus, with a fierce shake of every word. 

“ You didn’t ’ear me calhng ’im nothin’,” 
howled the Ironmonger’s son. “ Lemme go.” 

“You called him a gentleman, you wretched 
httle street cad,” said Augustus Clickson, furi- 
ously. “You let me hear you insult John 
Hazard again. Apologise.” 


THE MILLER’S CHARM 


79 


“ Of course I apolergise an’ me lyin’ ’ere the 
way I am,” said the Ironmonger’s son weeping. 
“ I don’t want to insult no one. I swear I’ll 
never call it ’im again. Lemme go.” 

This incident somewhat cheered Augustus Click- 
son, and when they reached No. 179, and he was 
preparing to part from John, he put his hands 
in his pockets and leapt abstractedly up and down. 

“ Let’s climb the cliff to-morrow,” he said. 
“ It’s no good bothering about that other thing 
and so I tell you.” 

“ It's never any good bothering about any- 
thing,” said John Hazard. 

So the next day he and Augustus departed at 
half-past one, it being Saturday and a half 
holiday. 

Climbing the chff of Under was an arduous 
business for the weighty Augustus CHckson. John 
was able to advise him how to take the best 
advantage of whatever hand or footholds the 
waterfall afforded ; but even so, Augustus, 
chnging to a rock half-way up, began to boom. 
He said he was going down again at once, and it 
was ridiculous to try and climb a cliff hke that, 
and he had said so from the very beginning. 
John remarked doubtfully that chmbing down 


80 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


was not much less difficult than climbing up, a 
truth of which Augustus had had ample evidence 
the Saturday before, when his hurried descent 
of the first part of the waterfall had been much 
more like falling than chmbing. Moved by this 
memory to further effort, Augustus, still boom- 
ing, re-commenced to climb, and at last they 
both scrambled out at the top of the channel. 

There lay the earth below them, tiny and 
dwarfed and far away, with the green plains 
spreading to the distant sea, and the river winding 
and curving through them, and underneath the 
cliff the impenetrable motionless smoke of Under, 
and away on the horizon the smoke of Wayport, 
the great fortified naval port which was the 
next city along the coast. And behind them lay 
the forest, green and deep ; and not till the 
moon rose over them need John and Augustus 
go down again to Under. Augustus, much 
pleased, dusted the knees of his trousers, and 
said there were few things one could not do if 
one tried, and he had always said so. 

They went straight up through the forests 
and out on to the uplands. There they spent 
the afternoon ; and they were still a long way 
from the forest edge when suddenly, in a valley 


THE MILLER’S CHARM 


81 


below them, they saw a man waving his arms. 
He kept waving and waving, all alone knee-deep 
among the gorse. 

“Is he waving at us ? ” said Augustus, surprised. 

“ Perhaps we’d better wave back and see,’’ 
said John. 

So they waved, and the instant and energetic 
response of the man below left them in no doubt 
as to whom he was waving. They descended to 
see what was wanted of them, and were met by 
a stout young man with a very red face, which 
he kept wiping with a red handkerchief which 
appeared to wipe more red on to his face instead 
of wiping any off. 

“I’ve been walking up and down inside these 
’ere ’ills since ten this morning,” he said, “ and 
I’m ’arf dead. Whereabouts up ’ere lives the 
’Awker as sells staves and Charms ? ” 

“ He lives in a glade on the edge of the forest,’’ 
said John, “ But you are still a long way away 
from it.” 

“What!” ejaculated the young man. “Good 
’eavens, what am I going to do now.” He sat 
heavily down on a rock. “ All day long ’ave I 
been ’unting for ’im up in this ’ere ’owling wildi- 
ness,” he said. “ I couldn’t find ’im in the 

F 


82 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


markets, so I ’ad to come up ’ere. I started at 
four this morning by train from Under, I did, 
and ’ere I am, and ’aven’t got to ’im yet. An’ 
’ow am I goin’ to walk miles to a glade in a 
forest when I’ve got to catch the last train as 
passes that there ’alt platform miles be’ind the 
’ills, which I can’t do any’ow unless I start this 
instant. What am I goin’ to do now, I ask 
y ou ? ” He scratched his head , and looked at J ohn 
and Augustus ; and John and Augustus looked 
back at him. John had a feehng that he had 
seen him somewhere before, but he could not 
remember where. 

Are you young fellers fellers as a feller could 
trust ? ” said the young man, solemnly. 

'' Well, there’s only us to say so, of course,” 
replied John, considering, “ but I think we are.” 

“ Of course we are,” said Augustus Clickson, 
indignantly. 

“ What’s your fathers ? ” said the young man. 

“ Mine was a soldier,” said John. 

“ I don’t see what it’s got to do with you,” 
said Augustus, booming. Not that he meant to 
be impolite, but he was often loud and refusing 
at the start of a thing, no one quite knew why. 

“ Well, there ain’t no need to take on about 


THE MILLER^S CHARM 


83 


it,” said the young man, with reproachful sur- 
prise. “ Ow’m I to know if I don’t ask ? It’s 
important, I tell you. The ’Awker as I’m 
lookin’ for ain’t the sorter person as any man 
’ud wish to cross if ’e could ’elp it, or I shouldn’t 
a-troubled to come all this way to pay ’im. 
A man as can work a charm as easily as ’e 
can could lay a spell too if ’e ’ad a mind, 
lemme tell you, young chap. But I ain’t goin’ 
to miss the train ’ome an’ ’ave to stay up ’ere in 
this ’orrible ’owling place all night for anybody. 
Look ’ere, you find that ’Awker for me, since you 
know where he lives, an’ when you’ve found 
’im, you say to ’im, ‘ That Charm worked all 
right, an’ the ’alf sack of oat flour is waitin’ for 
you at the ’alt behind the ’ills.’ ’E’ll understand 
all right. Now then, what is it you’ve got to 
say ? ” 

John repeated the words. He knew now where 
he had seen the young man. He added, “ Then 
doesn’t she run away any more ? ” and Augustus 
Clickson suddenly put his hands in his pocket 
and leapt in the air. 

“ No, she don’t, though I don’t know ’ow you 
know enough to arsk it,” said the young man, 
with satisfaction. “ Walks by me as willin’ as 


84 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


you please, she does. An’ don’t mind waitin’ 
till I’ve got time to think about it an’ nime the 
day. Now you remember it’s important, an’ 
’ere’s an ’apenny for you.” 

“ We don’t want the halfpenny, thank you,” 
said John, politely. “ We’ll do it without.” 

“ So much the better,” said the young man, and 
he re-pocketed the halfpenny and went off into 
the uplands, and John and Augustus were left 
looking at each other. 

“ That was the Miller I saw the Hawker selling 
the Charm to in the market-place,” said John. 

“ I know it was,” said Augustus Clickson. 
“ A Charm’s your only chance, and I’ve thought 
so from the very beginning. Come on.” 

They scrambled up ridges and raced down 
valleys, making across the uplands for the edge 
of the forest at full speed. As they turned into 
the glade, they saw a tall figure emerging from 
the trees at its further end. 

“There he is,” said John; and Augustus 
came to a dead stop, and putting his hands in his 
pockets, leapt abstractedly on high. 


CHAPTER VII 
The Three First Trials 

The Hawker slung his staves from his shoulders 
to the ground. 

‘‘ Good evening,” said he. 

“ Good evening,” said John, advancing. 
“ This is Augustus CUckson, Hawker, a friend of 
mine. We were in the uplands just now, and 
we met that Miller you sold the Charm to in the 
market-place.” 

‘‘And the Charm’s worked,” said Augus- 
tus. 

‘‘ Yes, the Charm’s worked,” said John. “ She 
doesn’t run away from him any more.” 

“ Ugh, the fools of Under ! ” said the Hawker, 
sitting down on the turf. 

“ And the half sack of oat flour is waiting for 
you at the railway platform,” said John. 

“ Will you sell us a Charm too ? ” said 
Augustus suddenly thrusting his hands deep into 
his pockets and leaping on high. 

85 


86 


IN THE CITY OF UNDEB 


The Hawker lifted his head and looked at 
John with his half-smile. 

“You have been a long time about it, haven’t 
you ? ” he said. “ Well, go on.” 

John stood on one leg in a slight embarrass- 
ment and looked at the Hawker ; and Augustus 
fixed his eyes on a distant tree-top and coughed. 

“We weren’t quite sure at first, you see. 
Hawker,” explained John, “ but we are now. 
We would hke a Charm very much, to help 
me get a job.” 

“ Yes, to help him get a job,” said Augustus. 

“ Clickson and I have tried to get one, but 
we can’t,” said John. 

“No, we certainly can’t,” said Augustus 
Clickson. 

“ I want a job as an errand-boy,” said John, 
“ but I’m only twelve you see, and small at 
that, and nobody will have me.” 

“ Yes, he wants a job as an errand-boy, but 
nobody will have him,” said Augustus Chckson 
strongly. “ Of course an errand-boy’s a beastly 
thing to be, but all rich people were errand-boys 
once, and one of them would be starting to earn 
something anyway, and they’re as poor as 
church mice, and his brother and sister are 


THE THREE FIRST TRIALS 


87 


geniuses and can’t earn a penny. Unless Hazard 
encourages his mother to hope that they may 
some day some of them get out of Down Street 
there’s not a soul to do it.” 

“ So can we have a Charm ? ” said 
John. 

“ If he can’t,” said Augustus Clickson, “ it’s 
no use his hoping to do anything, and so I tell 
you, and I’ve said so from the very first. Of 
course, a Charm’s all rot, but if you gave the 
Miller one that succeeded, I don’t see why 
you shouldn’t give John Hazard one too. If 
you don’t, there’s not the faintest chance that 
anyone will ever take him. I went round with 
him myself to try and make them, but what 
can you expect with him the skinny size he is 
through staying so long in India, and so nervous 
he will stand on one leg.” 

The Hawker picked up a staff from the pile 
that lay on the ground beside him, and handed 
it to John. 

“ At last,” he said. 

“ Is that a Charm ? ” said Augustus, surprised. 
“ It looks like nothing more than an ordinary 
carved stick.” 

“ It’s a Charm,” said the Hawker. 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


“ Are they all of them Charms ? ” said Augus- 
tus, gazing at the heap. 

“ Not necessarily,” said the Hawker. 

“ What do I have to do with it. Hawker ? ” 
inquired John. “ Do I just walk in and out of 
shops with it asking for jobs ? ” 

“ No,” said the Hawker. “ Keep it always in 
your left hand, and when you try for a situation, 
stand firmly on both feet, bend your head, and 
make a line in the air with your right hand — 
so — straight from your forehead to the ground. 
The first time you try it, it may perhaps not succeed 

— nor the second, nor even the third — but ” 

“ But the fourth time it willy' said Augustus 
Clickson. “ My gracious ! ” and he leapt ab- 
stractedly anew. The Hawker looked at him 
meditatively and said nothing. 

“ Thank you very much indeed. Hawker,” 
said John. “ What is there to pay ? ” 

“ Nothing,” said the Hawker. 

John and Augustus looked first at him, and 
then at each other, in surprise. 

“ Nothing at dll ? ” said John. 

“ Nothing,” said the Hawker. 

“Not even honey or oat-flour or something 
like that ? ” said John. 


THE THREE FIRST TRIALS 89 

“ No,’* said the Hawker. 

“ But you let those other people pay you 
something,” said John. 

“ I know I did,” said the Hawker. “ They 
were no travellers, those.” 

He rose, went to the door of his little house, 
and unfastened the chain. Augustus fixed his 
eyes on a distant tree-top, and coughed abstract- 
edly, leaping. 

“ Are you sure, Hawker ? ” said John politely. 

“ Quite,” said the Hawker, and he let the 
door-chain swing with a clank. 

John advanced and held out his hand. 
“ Thank you very much indeed then,” said he. 
“Shall we come and tell you when we’ve 
succeeded ? ” 

“ Do,” said the Hawker. 

So they shook hands, and John and Augustus 
went away into the forest, and the Hawker, 
after looking after them for a minute, pushed 
his door open and disappeared into his little 
house. 

By the time John and Augustus were down 
on the waste lands, it was too late to try the 
Charm. The shadow of the cliff lay darkly 
over Under, and every one in the city was just 


90 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


about to sit down to supper. So John and 
Augustus arranged to meet in Down Street at 
five o’clock on Monday, and Augustus went 
bursting up Wickle Hill after his manner, and 
John returned home. 

Old Mother Letitlie was sitting in her doorway 
as he passed by, and at her feet sat a neighbour’s 
daughter who, by the light of a tallow caudle 
set on the doorstep, read the news to Mother 
Letitlie for a penny an hour, twice a week, out of 
a halfpenny evening paper, with a nervousness 
of spirit that frequently ended in tears and 
flight. Old Mother Letitlie could not read her- 
self but she took a gloomy pleasure in hearing 
about the doings of the fools who would not 
sit on doorsteps in a black world, and let things 
be ; and as there was always some mother in 
Down Street who insisted on her daughter’s 
earning a penny an hour whether she wished 
to or not, another daughter always arrived in 
tears as soon as one daughter had fled for good, 
and Mother Letitlie always had somebody to 
read her the news. 

“I was looking out for you, John Hazard,” 
said she, nodding and beckoning when she saw 
John. “ You come here a moment.” She 


THE THEEE FIEST TEIALS 


91 


prodded the neighbour’s daughter with her 
stick. “ Eead that bit about the police again,” 
said she. “ Go on, go on,” and the neighbour’s 
daughter sniffed, and desperately wetted her 
forefinger as an aid to spelhng and self-control ; 
and read in one sentence, headlines and all, 
with no stops and her own pronunciation, the 
spirited and humorous effort of the evening 
halfpenny journalist. 

“ Puzzled pehss vanished vagrants ha pehss 
pehss really indeed need we find fault with 
our good cus — cus — cus of the lor but ha pehss 
pehss where is the singing girl who was arrested 
for begging in the street last week and where is 
the hterary tramp who was taken up for being 
without visible means of sub — sub — sub last 
Sunday afternoon ha pehss pehss to let them 
both shp through your fingers in the street and 
then shp through them again for good and all 
when you had actually traced them to the 
Waste Lands is this your care of us blew-coated 
gardeners of the con— con — con ha pehss pehss.” 

“And after that, John Hazard,” said old 
Mother Letithe, as the neighbour’s daughter 
paused for breath with a gasp, “ I hope you’ll 
let things be, as I’ve told you times without 


92 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


number. There’s trouble enough in a black world 
without adding to it by stroodling in and out.” 

“ Why after that ? ” said John. 

“ Why after that ? ” echoed old Mother Letitlie. 
“Do you know where the Waste Lands are, 
my lad ? They’re under the cliff, and its not 
the first time I’ve heard of vanishings off the 
Waste Lands under the cliff, nor the first time 
that you have either. It’s my belief that the 
Foreigners are back again, and at their work 
in Under. But I don’t care what anybody does 
or doesn’t do so long as they don’t stroodle in 
and out disturbing me about it. Go on with 
your reading, get on with your reading, do I 
pay you a penny an hour to sit on my doorstep 
and sniff ! ” said Old Mother Letitlie, with irrita- 
tion, and she prodded the neighbour’s daughter. 

Punctually at half-past five on the following 
Monday afternoon John and Augustus left 
Down Street together. During their former 
efforts, before his rising wrath had swept all 
before it, Augustus Clickson had always en- 
couraged John heartily when he went into a 
shop, had waited for him hopefully while he 
was inside it, and had walked away with him 
dejectedly when he came out. Now, however, 


THE THREE FIRST TRIALS 


93 


all was changed. There would be no further 
need either for encouragement or dejection. 
They left Down Street full of confidence. 

Augustus Clickson had pointed out that since 
the Charm would not in any event succeed till 
the fourth trial, it would be both useless and 
foolish to try and make it do so. Trying, as 
Augustus Clickson said strongly, was always a 
bore, especially when you had to try at the same 
thing more than once. Besides, they had had 
enough of trying already, and it would be extra 
stupid to waste time endeavouring to do a 
thing you knew perfectly well beforehand you 
couldn^t. The point was to get the first three 
times over as quietly and easily as possible, 
without bothering to try at all, and then to 
concentrate all their efforts on the fourth trial. 

So they went out in the city again, and the 
first shop they came to with a card in the window 
they entered. It was a tailor's shop and Augus- 
tus said approvingly that it would do very well 
indeed for the first time because it was such a 
beastly little place. So John went in. The 
shop was small and dark and so was the tailor. 
He was at work in a wheeled chair at a low 
table which was fastened to it, and by his side 


94 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


was another table strewn with papers. John 
took the Charm in his left hand, and with his 
right he touched his forehead and made a sweep 
through the air to the ground. Do you want 
an errand boy, please ? he said. 

“ Well, they taught you manners, wherever 
it is you come from,"' said the little tailor approv- 
ingly, pausing in his stitching. Oh manners, 
manners, what potry there is in manners ! " 

John looked at him a little uncertainly. He 
was wondering how far one ought to go in 
asking for something one did not want and knew 
one could not have. 

Then do you want an errand boy ? he 
said. 

‘‘ Well, I suppose I might do, if "e was the 
right sort of boy," said the little tailor. “ But 
I should feel the wrong sort of boy very quickly, 
very quickly indeed, I should. It would be a 
dreadful thing to a person of my sensitive 
feehngs if the wrong sort of boy went walking 
round about me. Oh, what potry there is in 
everything, even in the choosing of a boy. And 
any boy I "ave "as to be an extra trustable sort 
of boy, you see, because I"m a life-cripple."" 

“ A what ? "" said John, taken aback. 


THE THREE FIRST TRIALS 


95 


A life-cripple/* said the little tailor 
“ Twenty years Fve been in this chair and I 
never get out of it except to be lifted into my 
bed and when I get out of it for the last time 
it'll be to be lifted into my coffin, and that may 
be any time now, for I shan't be much longer 
in Under. Oh, it isn't so dreadful. You needn't 
look so took aback. There's few things a man 
can't find 'is way out of by a back street if 'e 
can't walk out of 'em by the front door, and 
I'm as often out of this chair as in it, though I 
mayn't get out of it on my feet. Take potry 
now. There's a spear for a man. As large a 
spear as you could wish. Ah, what potry does 
for a man. There may be a few things as I 
don't seem able to 'ave through sitting all my 
life in this chair, sech as a wife and that — but 
I get it all in potry. All, I do. And it ain't 
no trouble to me. I throws it orf as I goes 
along. Look at this now." He drew a sheet 
from the table at his side. ‘‘ ‘ Lovely wooman, 
lovely wooman,' " read the httle tailor in a 
tremendous voice, ‘‘ an' there's 'eaps more as 
good as that. Writ that orf in a minute yester- 
day between a coat and a waiscoat, I did. But 
about me wanting a boy " 


96 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


At that moment a sound was heard Hke the 
squeal of a pencil on a slate, and the face of 
Augustus Chckson, surprised and anxious, ap- 
peared at the window, white with compression 
against the window pane, while his flattened 
nose squealed on the glass and his eyes rolled 
round the shop. 

‘‘ Good evening and thank you very much,*" 
said John earnestly ; and he hastened from the 
shop, leaving the little tailor much surprised at 
so abrupt a termination to what he had thought 
was merely the beginning of a long and interesting 
conversation. On John’s appearance outside, 
Augustus rebuked him for wasting so much 
time. He was a hf e-cripple — an awfully brave 
httle man,” said John. He gets out of being 
a hfe-cripple by writing poetry.” 

“ I don’t care how he gets out of anything,” 
said Augustus sternly. He couldn’t engage 
you as an errand-boy, and that’s all that concerns 
us. The thing is to go on as quickly as possible 
to the fourth time, as I’ve told you before.” 

They walked for some distance, but they came 
across no more shops that wanted a boy, at any 
rate in the window ; so Augustus decided to ask 
by the way. He approached a small thin 


THE THREE FIRST TRIALS 


97 


youth, about four feet nothing high, who was 
engaged in pouring a shower of bruised Brussels 
sprouts out of a box into a box on the trestle 
outside a greengrocer’s. 

“ Does your master want an errand-boy ? ” 
said Augustus. 

“ Whaffor ? ” said the youth, carefuUy pouring 
out the last sprout. 

“ Does he, I ask you ? ” said Augustus 
loudly. 

“No, ’e don’t want a hoy exactly,” said the 
youth, “ but I ^ave ’eard ’im arskin’ once or 
twice for a couple of young dooks or so, if you 
’appen to know of any about as ’ud like a sitoo- 
ation at tuppence a week all found excep’ 
a good deal as is lorst an’ ’ad better not be 
looked for.” 

Augustus Clickson turned purple with rage, 
and what would have happened next it would 
be hard to say had not John hastily and politely 
interfered. “ We aren’t dukes,” he said, “ and 
we are sorry to interrupt you, but we only want 
to know whether your master wants an errand 
boy if you wouldn’t mind just telling us.” 

“ The reel question is,” said the youth, “ would 
any errand boy want ’m.” 

G 


IN THE CITY OE UNDER 


“ Isn’t he nice ? ” said John. 

“ Nice'' echoed the youth. “ Oh yes, ’e’s as 
nice as they make ’em. ’Its you as soon as he 
sees you, ’e does, an’ sometimes sooner.” 

“ Then why do you stay with him ? ” said 
John, surprised. 

“ Because my father’s workin’ off a debt with 
me instead of with ’imself, that’s why,” said the 
youth. “ But Lor’ bless you, / don’t mind. I’ll 
be even with the boss some day all right. You 
look at that for an arm,” said the youth, and he 
rolled up his shirt sleeves and showed an arm 
which was wrist all the way up to the shoulder 
except for a small lump, which, when the youth 
clenched his fist very firmly, arose above the 
elbow. “ There’s muscle for you,” said the 
youth, proudly. “ I’ll be even with ’im yet, 
you’ll see. Lor’ bless you, there ain’t nothink 
a man can’t find ’is way out of, if ’e ’as the 
’eart of an ’en. I’m learning Jew-its-you at the 
Christian Ass. Gym. where they learn it you so 
as to be able to ’it the Jews for not bein’ Chris- 
tians, but you can use it on other people besides 
Jews, you can. I ain’t goin’ to stay in Under 
long— I’m goin’ out into the world, I am— but 
before I leave I’m goin’ to knock ’im dahn- 


THE THREE FIRST TRIALS 99 

’E’s goin’ to be sorry e’ ever touched me, the 
day I leave, ’e is ” 

“ Now then, what’s all this ’ere ? ” said a 
loud voice behind them, and the youth suddenly 
began pouring all the bruised Brussels sprouts 
back into the box from which he had just been 
pouring them, which was doubtless why, since he 
seemed to do it rather often, the Brussels sprouts 
were so bruised ; while John and Augustus turned 
hastily to find themselves face to face with an 
unsually large red Greengrocer. 

“ What are you doin’ ’ere ? ” said the Green- 
grocer. “ Be orf with you, wastin’ my lad’s 
time.” 

“ Do you want an errand-boy ? ” said Augustus 
hastily, while John clasped the Charm firmly 
in his left hand, and swept his right from his 
forehead to the ground. 

“ I don’t want a dancin’ master, any’ow,” said 
the Greengrocer, staring at John. “ The thing 
is, what do you want ? ” 

“ I want a place, at least I don’t, but my 
friend does, at least he doesn’t this time,” said 
Augustus, losing his head at the sudden fierceness 
of the Greengrocer’s inquiry. 

Not till they had hurried round the corners 


100 IN THE CITY OF UNDEE 

of two streets did they feel themselves really 
beyond the reach of the Greengrocer’s terrible 
roar; but even as he fled, John caught the 
defiant wink of the youth as he continued to 
pour Brussels sprouts out of a box into a box. 
Considering how much bigger the Greengrocer 
was than the youth, there appeared to be great 
courage in the latter’s diligent and hopeful 
study of the best method of knocking the Green- 
grocer down. 

Augustus, however, when John remarked 
something to this effect on their first breathless 
slackening, was unable to take any view of the 
matter except a furious one. He said that if 
anything of that sort ever happened again, he 
should go home at once. 

“ Well, I only thought that he and that little 
tailor both seemed to be finding ways of out 
their difficulties all right,” said John. 

“ The only way out that I shall find myself 
if this kind of thing goes on,” said Augustus, 
indignantly, “is the way home, and so I tell 
you.” 

It was quite ten minutes before he began to 
recover from his indignation, but the thought 
that the Charm must certainly be working since 


THE THREE FIRST TRULS 101 

nobody could be further than they were from 
getting the second situation they had asked for, 
began, at last, to exercise a soothing influence 
upon him ; and they shortly proceeded on their 
way. 

They had now crossed the river, and were 
gradually coming into a part of the city which 
lay towards its outskirts on the plains. It was 
an even poorer and dirtier part than Down 
Street ; and, in the high dark houses with which 
it was crowded, several famihes lived together in 
one room, and most of them frequently died 
there. It was not a part in which John and 
Augustus would ever have thought of trying for 
a situation had there been any chance of their 
getting it, but, under the circumstances, it did 
not really seem to matter much in what sort of 
a district they put the third trial of the Charm 
behind them. So, not coming across any shop 
that advertised the want of a boy, they went into 
one to advertise themselves ; and the look of 
the shop and of the street it was in, made them 
decide to go in together. It was a long, low 
tunnel of a place, very dark, and crammed with 
the strangest confusion of articles that John and 
Augustus had ever seen. There was nothing 


102 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


new in it from end to end, and nothing clean. 
It looked as though large numbers of people had 
picked out the oldest and dirtiest things they 
could find in their dust-heaps and rammed them 
into the shelves ; and the oldest and dirtiest 
thing in the whole shop was the owner himself. 
At first, John and Augustus, coming in from the 
light of the street, could not find him in the 
darkness, but they caught sight of him suddenly, 
and it gave them rather a shock. He was sitting 
hunched together on a high stool in the highest 
corner behind the counter, glaring at them and 
biting his nails. His long grey hair hung round 
his yellow face, and lay on his humped shoulders ; 
and his nose had a bigger hump than his shoulders. 
When he saw the boys had seen him, he bit at 
his nails harder than ever, and cried what sounded 
like : “ Washer want ? Washer want ? ” 
Augustus was a little taken aback, and, re- 
maining where he was, put his hands in his 
pockets, and leapt thoughtfully on high; but 
John had had longer acquaintance with the 
strange people that five among the poor. He 
advanced, clasped the Charm, swept his right 
hand from his forehead to the ground, and said : 
“ Do you want a boy, please — an errand boy ? ” 


THE THREE FIRST TRIALS 103 


“ Go away, Gentile child that bowest as bow 
the children of my race,” said the old man 
in a hoarse, impatient voice. “ Errant, errant ! 
no, I want no errant.” 

John thought that he had perhaps not been 
quite rightly understood. “ I mean a boy to do 
errands — or run messages,” he explained. 

The old man’s countenance suddenly changed : 
his eyes suddenly flashed. He scrambled down 
from the stool, snatched from it something upon 
which he had been sitting, and came hobbhng 
round the counter, with a face of furious eager- 
ness, stammering and chattering. “Yes, yes,” 
he cried, seizing John by the arm, “ I want 
message run. I encage thee, I encage thee. I 
gif’ thee fifteen shillings week. What shall I 
do, an’ me alone in the house with even the fool 
Anna away. I encage thee, now at once I 
encage thee.” 

At this surprising and utterly unexpected 
result of their application, John and Augustus 
completely lost their heads. Augustus could 
think of nothing to say but “ My gracious,” 
and John could think of nothing at all. 

“ I encage thee, I tell thee, I encage thee,” 
cried the old man, shaking John’s arm in furious 


104 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


excitement. “ Why dost thou not answer ? 
See, I want message run. Go. Take this parcel. 
Go to the end of this street, take first turn right 
and first turn left to the river, and on the wharf 
thou shalt find seated a girl, a child with a blue 
and a red ribbon in her hair and but one shoe. 
Give her this, and say to her : ‘ Jabez the 
Jeweller says they’re up.’ And should anyone 
run after thee, run, run, for the sake of our 
father Abraham.” 

John and Augustus stood lost in bewilderment 
at these extraordinary commands, and the old 
man shook John’s arm again in wild impatience. 

‘‘ Art thou deaf ? Art thou deaf 1 ” he cried. 

John opened his mouth to stammer out a 
refusal of the errand, but he did not know what 
to say. He had asked for a place as an errand 
boy, and he had got it, and here was his first 
errand. He could not think of any reason to 
give for refusing it. The old man thrust the 
parcel upon him, and he took it mechanically. 
It was flat, and sewn up in waterproof canvas, 
and as John took it, it rustled and creaked. 

“ Understand, understand,” whispered the old 
man, his eyes gleaming with anxiety and eager- 
ness, “ I encage thee now. Fifteen, twenty 


THE THREE FIRST TRIALS 105 

shillings week shalt thou have, if thou wilt but 
run this message quick, quick. What shall I 
do, with even my old fool daughter away, and 
no one in the house, and these Gentile dogs afoot 
that root out a man*s house like the dogs they 
are, and may find even what they do not know is 
there ! Say what I have told thee, that I may 
know thou knowest.'' 

“ To the end of the street, and the first to the 
right, and the first to the left — to the river,'* 
stammered John. 

** And there a child, Rachel, the daughter of 
Elihu, the son of Ehhu, the son of mine ancient 
friend, on whom be peace," said the old man, 
“ to whom thou shalt give this. And what sayest 
thou to her ? " 

“ Jabez the Jeweller says they're up," said John. 

“ Then go, go, and our father Abraham go 
with thee, for I can no more," said the old man, 
pushing them to the door, “ and should anyone 
run after thee, run, run, run ! " He thrust 
them out on the pavement, and slammed the 
shop door behind him. 

Augustus and John walked some paces mechan- 
ically along the pavement in sheer bewilderment 
before they paused and looked at each other. 


106 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


“ What are we going to do now ? said John. 

“ He didn’t give the Charm time to work,” 
said Augustus Clickson, drawing an agitated 
breath. “ That must have been it. It will 
work when we come back. W^e’d better just go 
and do what he wants, since he seems in such a 
fuss about it, and then come back and give the 
Charm a chance of working.” 

“ Suppose it doesn*t work,” said John, gazing 
at Augustus CHckson. “ Suppose I’ve got to go 
on being an errand boy to that awful old man 
for ever and ever. I don’t see how I can say 
I won’t — ^when it’s a pound a week.” 

Augustus CHckson was spared the difficulty of 
conceahng the fact that the same misgiving was 
troubhng his own breast. They had gained the 
end of the street in which the shop stood, and, 
as they took the first turn to the right, John 
happened to glance behind him. He started. 

“ There’s a man at the end of the street be- 
ginning to run this way, Clickson,” he said. 
“ Do you think he can be coming after us ? ” 

“ My gracious,” said Augustus ; “ I don’t 
think we’d better wait to find out ; ” and they 
took to their heels without another word. They 
were both able to run fast, Augustus because he 


THE THREE FIRST TRIALS 107 


had learnt how to carry his weight at his public 
school, and John because he had so Httle weight 
to carry. They went shoulder to shoulder down 
the street in which they found themselves. 
There were few people about, and, in any event, 
the spectacle of two boys running was not one to 
interest anybody who did not know what they 
were running for. They came nearly to the end 
of the street, but they could see no opening to 
the left in the houses ahead of them. The walls 
and windows still stood high, and dark, and 
unbroken. 

“There is no turn to the left,^’ gasped Augustus, 
slackening angrily. John slackened too, for a 
moment — ^and in that moment the pursuing feet 
drew nearer. 

“ Perhaps there's a way out at the very end," 
said John, hastening forward again ; and the next 
moment he cried : “ This must be it. Come on." 

Between the houses, so hidden and low that 
it could only be seen, even by quick eyes, when 
one was abreast of it, a narrow passage ran down 
to the left. It was a stone-paved alley, which 
wound between the backs of factories, and, being 
used entirely by factory hands, was now quite 
empty, work having ceased for the day. John 


108 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


and Augustus followed it in haste, their feet 
echoing on the flags. At last it took a sudden 
turn to the right, and John and Augustus, swing- 
ing round the corner, saw the river lying wide 
before them, a shimmering expanse of water. 
The alley ran out on to a deserted wharf, sur- 
rounded by half ruined and empty old ware- 
houses ; and, on the river wall at the edge of 
the wharf, there sat a little girl facing the alley 
entrance, with a blue ribbon tying up a curl on 
one side of her dark head, and a red ribbon tying 
up a curl on the other, and with one bare foot 
hanging against the wall. 

John and Augustus came to an abrupt stop. 
This could be none other than Rachel, the 
daughter of Elihu, the son of Elihu, the son of 
the old man’s ancient friend. There were the 
red ribbon and the blue ribbon, and the bare 
foot that hung against the wall. Besides, there 
was nobody else in sight. The little wharf lay 
absolutely empty in the sunlight, and the lane 
that led away from it along the river ran by 
more half-ruined warehouses, and was as empty 
as the wharf. This was a part of the city which 
had once been prosperous, but trade and traffic 
had left if for the great docks and wharfs that 


THE THREE FIRST TRIALS 109 


had been built on the wider curve of the river 
in the centre of the town ; and now only the 
rats used the warehouses, and the only keels that 
crossed the water were those of a few old boats 
that phed as ferries. One of these, on a rusting 
chain, was bumping gently in the running tide 
against the river wall, but there was no water- 
man in her, and no one save the httle girl in 
sight. She sat quite still, gazing at them with 
a fascinated and horrified gaze from a pair of 
sorrowful dark eyes. John and Augustus looked 
at each other, and then John advanced. “ Jabez 
the Jeweller says they're up," he said, and he 
held out the parcel ; while Augustus put his 
hands in his pockets and, with a thoughtful 
aspect, leapt on high. 

Oh dear me, oh dear me," said the httle girl, 
and she gave a kind of howl of sorrow, and shpped 
off the w’all. 

“ Are you Rachel ? " said John. He remem- 
bered her by the dark eyes that had gazed at 
him a few days before under the gas-lamp in 
Down Street. But she took no notice of him. 
She ran across the wharf with the package, and 
hammered despairingly at the closed door of one 
of the warehouses. 


no 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


William, William,"" she cried. '' Come out, 
William. They"re up."" 

The door opened very shghtly, and an alarmed 
voice said : “ "Ush, for "eaven"s sake, you"ll 
rouse the "ole neighbourhood."" 

There"s no neighbourhood to rouse,"" said 
the little girl. “ Come out, come out."" 

The door opened a httle wider, and a young 
man put out a head exactly like the head of a 
white rat, and looked anxiously about him. 

“ "Oo"s them two ? "" he ejaculated in alarm, 
drawing back as he caught sight of John and 
Augustus. 

“ Those are only the boys that brought it,"" 
said the httle girl. 

Brought what ? "" said the young man, with 
a start. 

“ The packet,"" said the httle girl. “ Jabez 
says they"re up, and we must take the papers 
to the Inn."" 

“ Oh Lord, oh Lord, and what about the up- 
stairs lodger ? "" groaned the young man ; “ but 
let"s get out of this,"" and he burst out of the 
warehouse, and rushed across the wharf, with 
the httle girl pattering close behind him ; and 
before John and Augustus could reahse what 


THE FIRST THREE TRIALS 111 

they were about, they had loosed the old boat, 
scrambled into her, and cast her off. The young 
man seized the oars, and rowed furiously away, 
while the little girl sat in the stern with the 
packet in her folded arms, rocking over it as 
though it were a pain. “ Oh dear me, oh dear 
me,'" John and Augustus heard her say as the 
boat, rolhng under the fury of the young man s 
rowing, disappeared down the river into the haze 
of the summer evening. John and Augustus, 
left alone on the wharf, looked at each other. 

‘‘ Let's get out of this, too," said Augustus, 
emphatically. “ And the sooner we do it the 
better, and so I tell you. I don't believe that 
old man had any right to that packet, nor we 
any right to help him get rid of it." 

They returned up the alley at full speed. 
Their errand, whatever it might have been, was 
done. The next thing was to go and say as 
much, and give the Charm its chance of working. 
They could only hope it would work, and at once. 
It had led them into one sufficiently strange 
adventure already. No one so much as glanced 
at them on the way back, and they saw no 
more of the man whom they had seen running : 
which was little wonder, since he was still searching 


112 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


for them with all his might half a mile beyond 
the passage entrance to the alley. They reached 
the shop, and entered it. The old man sat on 
his high stool behind the counter. He was biting 
his nails fiercely, and glaring out from between 
the strands of his grey hair like a wild animal. 
One policeman stood in the middle of the shop, 
and another by the door. The shop had evi- 
dently been ransacked. All kinds of queer cup- 
boards and holes, of the openings of which John 
and Augustus had never seen a sign, now 
stood gaping in the dim light ; and of all the 
hundreds of things that had been crammed on 
the counters and into the shelves there was not 
one left. They were all on the floor, and the 
large policeman in the middle rose out of them 
like a blue mountain out of a sea. John and 
Augustus came to a dismayed stop, but the 
subordinate policeman by the door, thinking 
them customers, merely made them a sign to 
come no further for the moment. His superior 
officer had nearly finished his speech, and they 
were just about to depart. 

“ You’ll do it once too often you know, Jabez, 
my man,” the man in the middle was saying 
with an aspect of lofty but benevolent warning. 


THE THREE FIRST TRIALS 113 

“ You’ve slipped us again this time, but the 
trap’s closing, and there’s few fish we don’t tree 
sooner or later when we know as much about 
’em as we do about you. You may tell your 
daughter and that there little ward of your’s, 
that the perlisse of Under knows as well as most 
people what it is they ’ave to do for you whether 
they want to or not, and they know all about 
that foreigner as ’as been ’anging round your 
shop, inter the bargain. An’ the heyes of the 
perlisse of Under,” said the policeman, loftily, 
“ once being on a scent, can follow it up till it’s 
safe in the net, let it struggle ever so.” 

“ That they can, George,” said the policeman 
by the door, admiringly. 

“ Haff I stopped your search ? haff I hidden 
aught ? hafE I not opened all ? ” said the old man, 
with bitter sarcasm, his narrowed eyes fixed with 
triumphant contempt on the policeman. “ Search 
for the jewels, search, search, vile persecutors of 
the innocent who leave my poor place in ruins ! ” 
“ That’ll do, Jabez, my man, that’ll do,” 
said the large policeman, and he strode to the 
door, casting no more than a glance at John and 
Augustus as he passed them. Had the plain- 
clothes detective, who was even then rushing 

H 


114 


IN THE CITY OF UNDEH 


down far-off streets under the delusion that he 
was still chasing John and Augustus, but man- 
aged to reach the corner before they found that 
turning to the left, the policeman might not have 
passed them so casually. As he went by them, 
the old man cast a sudden glance of keen anxiety 
at John and Augustus, first at their hands, and 
then at their faces. Then he sank together on 
his stool in silence, and sat staring at the floor. 

When the door had closed, complete quiet 
reigned in the shop. The old man continued to 
sit plunged in thought, passive and relaxed, and 
so deeply preoccupied that the boys almost 
feared to disturb him. But when John ap- 
proached, he looked up, and the glare flashed 
back into his eyes. 

“ Washer want, washer want ? ” he said, 
irritably. 

‘‘ We gave that parcel to the little girl all 
right,” said John. The old man stared at him. 

“ Parcel, girl,” he repeated. “ Vot talk is 
this ? I know no girl, no parcel. The child is 
stricken.” 

John and Augustus were so taken aback they 
knew not what to say. They stood and stared, 
and the old man added angrily : “If you haf 


THE FIEST THREE TRIALS 115 

not come to sell aught but merely to talk fool- 
ishness, begone, I say. I am busy.” 

‘‘ But you engaged me as your errand boy,” 
said the astonished John. 

‘‘ Me ! You ! ” ejaculated the old man, star- 
ing. “ The child is certainly stricken. I haf 
never laid eyes on thee before.” 

John and Augustus looked at each other 
blankly. 

Astonishment obliterated every other con- 
sideration. “ But you have laid eyes on me 
before,” said John. “ You engaged me as your 
errand boy at a pound a week.” 

“ Yes, you did and so I tell you,” said Augus- 
tus. 

The old man sprang from his stool. “7,” 
he shrieked, “ I engage thee at a pound a week ! 
This is servindle ! This is to extort money. 
Begone, impostors, ere I drive ye forth with 
blows ! Begone I say.” He seized a stick and 
flourished it wildly, his hair streaming out round 
his head, his eyes flaming with fury ; and John 
and Augustus, so astonished that they hardly 
knew what they were doing, hastened in constern- 
ation from the shop. 

Such was their surprise that they traversed 


116 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


several streets at a considerable speed before the 
tumult of their feelings calmed down sufficiently 
to allow of cooler thought and consideration. 
Then it dawned upon them that, in spite of the 
astonishing circumstances which had attended its 
working, the third trial of the Charm lay behind 
them and the Charm itself was certainly in action, 
since no one could be further than they were 
from obtaining the situation they had asked for. 

But the shadow of the chff lay by now dark 
over the city. In all the streets the shops were 
beginning to close for the night. It was too late 
to start again that evening, especially as it was 
the fourth trial of the Charm that now had to be 
undertaken, and no haste or mistake must be 
allowed to endanger it. So they arranged to 
meet at the usual place and hour next day, and 
Augustus then rushed up Wickle Hill, and John 
returned to Down Street. Old Mother Letitlie 
was sitting in her doorway as he went by. 

“ Good evening,” said John pohtely. 

“ Good evening,” said old Mother Letitlie, 
continuing to gaze gloomily at Down Street. 


CHAPTER VIII 
The Failure of the Fourth 

By a quarter past five on Tuesday evening, John 
and Augustus were already in the city, consider- 
ing the site, size and appearance of a large 
number of shops. On several occasions they 
made opportunities for considering the size and 
appearance of the shopkeepers also — greatly to 
the indignation of the shopkeepers. These out- 
bursts of wrath at the sudden vision of peering 
faces at their swing doors, however, pleased 
Augustus Clickson. “ It’s a very good way of 
finding out whether they’ve got tempers or not,” 
he observed, leaping approvingly outside an 
establishment whence he and John had just fled 
precipitately ; and tempers they certainly most 
of them seemed to have. 

At last John and Augustus came to the con- 
clusion that a shop to which they had several 
times returned for its further consideration really 
did seem to be the best available. It was 
117 


118 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


the kind of shop in which, if one had to be a 
shop boy at all, one could best bear being one. 
It was a stationer’s shop, not too far from 
Down Street, and it stood in a clean little street 
that led from the market-place to the street by 
the railways and was itself clean and well fitted. 
It was not too large, so the work was not fikely 
to be too hard; and its long thin shopkeeper 
had an apathetic and melancholy countenance 
which gave no promise of sudden rage, chiefly 
because it gave no promise of anything at all. 
He came out once himself to inspect something 
on one of his newspaper placards, so they had 
an opportunity of inspecting him in his turn, of 
which they took such full advantage that he 
became uncomfortable and retired nervously 
within the shop. A card with “ Boy wanted ” 
hung in the window. All seemed suitable. So 
Augustus stationed himself on the edge of the 
pavement a few doors down, and John walked in. 
The Stationer was engaged in serving a customer 
with one sheet of grey Silurian notepaper and 
an envelope to match. He had a somewhat 
embittered air, but then there was nothing calcu- 
lated to exhilarate him very greatly in the busi- 
ness he was transacting. While he waited, John 


THE FAILURE OF THE FOURTH 119 


fell to wondering why a stationer should be 
called a stationer seeing that he was not neces- 
sarily any more stationary than any other 
shopkeeper ; and while he was occupied with this 
problem, the customer left the shop, and a voice 
said darkly after a moment’s pause, “ If you’re 
goin’ to spend an hour thinkin’ what you’ve 
come for, young man, I’d sooner you spent it 
outside.” 

“ I beg your pardon,” said John, hastily 
emerging from his reverie. “ Do you want an 
errand boy, please ? ” 

No, I don’t,” said the Stationer morosely. 
‘‘ Now go along out.” 

“ But the card in your window says you do,” 
said John, surprised at the gloom and resolution 
of the Stationer’s tone. His surprise was appar- 
ently shared by somebody else, for before the 
Stationer could answer, the curtained glass door 
at the back of the little shop suddenly opened 
slightly and the voice of some unseen person 
remarked with strenuous cheerfulness through 
the crack, “ Now ’Enery, ’Enery ! Look on the 
bright side of things, ’Enery ! ” 

“ I am lookin’ on the bright side of things, 
Hemmer,” called the Stationer in a goaded 


120 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


manner. “ So long as you stay the side of the 
door you are, I can go on a-lookin’ at ’em.” He 
added resentfully to John, “ ’Ow can I ’elp what 
the card in my window says ? Me and the card 
in my window is two very different things. Will 
you go along out ? ” John was so much discon- 
certed and surprised that he did begin to go 
along out, and the Stationer’s voice pursued 
him. “ I put that there card in my window 
the day afore the Radicals come in. Now that 
they Mr in, I can’t afford no boy, an’ I let 
people come in and ask me why I can’t, so 
that I may ’ave the chanst of Idlin' ’em why 
I can’t. Now you know and you can go along 
out.” 

‘‘ But it’s so misleading to say in your window 
that you want a boy when you don’t,” said John, 
pausing to remonstrate. 

‘‘ There’s nothink misleadin’ about it,” said 
the Stationer with some heat. “Is the trewth 
misleadin’, I ask you 1 1 do want a boy, an’ 
me with the ole shop on my ’ands. I’d ’ave five 
boys to-morrer if I could afford ’em. Now will 
you go along out ? ” 

John moved slowly to the door, pondering in 
much confusion. He felt sure the Stationer was 


THE FAILURE OF THE FOURTH 121 


labouring under some deep and fundamental 
error with regard to the card in his window, but 
he could not quite make out, in the mingled 
feehngs of the moment, what the error was ; 
and while he walked confusedly towards the 
exit, the glass-door opened again sHghtly, and 
a voice said in strenuous exhortation : “ ’Enery, 
’Enery, you don’t sound to me as if you was 
looking on the bright side of things. Remember 
what the doctor said, ’Enery.” 

“ Show me a bright side of things to look hat, 
Hemmer,” cried the Stationer, in a yet more 
goaded manner. 

A dead silence ensued on the further side of 
the glass door. Emma had apparently never 
expected this contingency, and was unable to 
cope with it. After a long pause the voice said 
in subdued and uncertain accents, “ Well, we 
mightn’t be ’ere at all, ’Enery.” 

“ An’ which ’ud be the bright side of that, 
Hemmer,” cried the Stationer. 

There was another long pause, and then the glass 
door slowly closed. 

“ Got ’er ! ” said the Stationer, in mingled 
depression and triumph, “I’m always a gettin’ 
of ’er, poor creacher. But it’s a dreadful thing 


122 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


for a man to ’ave a wife as will cheer ’im up. 
Will you go along out.” 

But John, in contemplating the Stationer’s 
error, had, with a violent start, suddenly remem- 
bered his own. I am an ass,” he said vigor- 
ously. He turned about, gripped the Charm 
firmly in his left hand, stood on both his feet, 
and swept his right hand from his forehead 
towards the ground. " Do you want an errand 
boy, please ? ” he said, confidently. The 
Stationer was so much surprised that at first he 
only stared, whereupon John repeated his words 
and movement. 

“ You’re mad,” said the Stationer, with dread- 
ful conviction. “ Don’t you make signs at me, 
because I won’t have it. ’Ere’s a nice thing to 
’ave ’appen to a man.” 

“ I’m not mad,” said John, aghast that such 
an interpretation should have seized upon the 
mind of the Stationer. 

“You are,” said the Stationer. “ You’re as 
mad as an ’atter. Go away.” 

“ I am truly not mad,” said John earnestly. 
‘ ‘ I only think that if you will only think a moment 
you’ll find you want an errand boy.” 

“HI thought for five year,” said the Stationer, 


THE FAILURE OF THE FOURTH 123 


greatly agitated, “ I shouldn’t find I wanted you. 
’Ere’s a nice thing to ’ave ’appen to a man. Go 
away. Go away quiet at once.” 

This was so strangely different to anything 
John had expected that he could hardly believe 
his ears. After staring in bewilderment at the 
Stationer for a moment, he determined to try 
again, lest there could by any chance have been 
some mistake in his rendering of the Charm. He 
closed his hand tightly round it, stood on both 
feet, bent his head, swept his right hand in a 
vigorous semi- circle from his forehead to the 
ground, and said firmly as if he had never said 
it before. “ Do you want an errand boy, 
please ? ” 

“Don’t you make signs at me, I tell you,” 
cried the Stationer, departing hastily to the other 
end of the shop. “ I won’t ’ave it.” 

“ I’m not making signs at you,” said John, 
desperately. 

“ You are,” said the Stationer, plunging into 
the profoundest gloom. “ ’Ere’s a nice thing to 
’ave ’appen to a man. As if I ’adn’t enough to 
bear already ! Mad men loose in Parlyment an’ 
mad boys loose in the street ! What’s England 
coming to ? The next thing’ll be, that you’ll go 


124 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


dangerous. I know. Now I shall ’ave to ’umour 
you or you’ll go dangerous. Look ’ere, my lad, 
I don’t want a boy myself, or I’d take you an’ 
’appy, for a pleasanter lad I never see. But the 
baker in the next street, ’e’d give ’is ears to ’ave 
a boy. Five girls in family they are, and the larst 
twins. You go on an’ make signs at the baker. 
’E’d enjoy it, ’e would. It’s the kind of thing 
’e does enjoy. You go away quiet and make 
signs at the baker.” 

John stood gazing at him helplessly, and at 
that instant the glass door opened slightly once 
more, and a voice as of one determined to ignore 
all set-backs and continue in the path of cheer- 
fulness however difficult, said, “ Now, ’Enery, 
’Enery, you don’t sound to me as if you was 
lookin’ at the bright side of things, ’Enery.” 

The Stationer literally tore at his hair and 
danced with rage at the further end of the shop, 
but he restrained himself sufficiently to groan 
encouragement to John, as the latter, seeing no 
other course open to him, began to move slowly 
away. 

“ That's right ! Out you go. Out you go 
quiet and shut the door be’ind you. Oh, what 
a thing to ’ave ’appen to a man,” groaned the 


THE FAILURE OF THE FOURTH 125 


Stationer, and at this juncture the glass door 
suddenly opened altogether, and a stout woman 
appeared on the threshold. She stood and 
beamed in the doorway for several seconds 
before the attitude and position of the Stationer 
dawned upon her. Then she said with mild 
surprise, “ Whatever are you doin’ of over there, 
’Enery ? ” 

“ I’m over ’ere because there’s a mad boy 
over there, Hemmer,” replied the Stationer with 
dignity. “ An’ a better reason could ’ardly be.” 

“ Mad ? ” ejaculated the stout woman with a 
faint start. “ Where ? ” 

“ There,” said the Stationer. 

“ Oh, there,” said the stout woman, gazing at 
John. 

“ Yes, there,” said the Stationer. “ Mad as 
an ’atter.” 

“ I’m not mad,” said John, pausing in despair- 
ing indignation. “ I only want him to engage 
me as an errand boy.” 

“ An’ why don’t you engage the little boy, 
’Enery, if ’e wants you to ? ” said the stout 
woman, benevolently. “ I’m sure he seems a 
perhte little boy enough. Every time I looked 
through the glass door while I was ironin’, there 


126 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


’e was, a-bowin’ an’ a-bowin’ till it reelly seemed 
as if ’e could ’ardly leave it orf. Why don’t you 
engage the little boy, ’Enery ? I’m sure I have 
often said to you I wished you would engage a 
little boy. It would cheer you up to ’ave a httle 
boy ” 

“ Will you mind your own business, Hemmer ? ” 
said the Stationer, wildly. “ I can’t afford to 
engage no boy, least of all a mad one.” 

“ I’m not mad,” cried John. 

“ You are,” cried the Stationer. 

The stout woman glanced with slight bewilder- 
ment and undiminished benevolence from one 
to the other and continued upon her way as if 

nothing had occurred to stop her in it. “ ’ave 

a little boy, now the doctor says you’ve got to be 
cheered up for the nerves, ’Enery, an’ as for not 
affordin’ it, why we’re turning over as much 
now as ever we was, an’ we’ve always ’ad a little 
boy, though of course I know it’s gone to your 
’ead since the larst little boy that the Radicals 
’ave got into Parly ment, ’Enery, but if you’d 
only try and look at the bright side of things, 
I’m sure you might find a way ” 

At this moment there was a terrific crash, and 
the stout woman leapt in the doorway with a 


THE FAILURE OF THE FOURTH 127 


shriek. The Stationer, goaded beyond endur- 
ance, had hurled a large roll of newspapers across 
the shop, whether at John, or the stout woman, 
or merely into space, did not appear. It hit 
The Lady full in the face, and the stand con- 
taining that periodical and many others came 
with force to the ground. 

“ Perreps you’d better go away, little boy,” 
said the stout woman, recovering herself with a 
sigh. “ I’m sure I never see a perhter little boy, 
but ’e wdl set an’ look at the dark side of things.” 

But John, much shaken by this violent evidence 
that the Charm was not exerting so much as the 
faintest influence on the mind of the Stationer, 
was already gone. 

“ You have been an age,” said Augustus Click- 
son, hastening to meet him as he emerged from 
the shop. “ How much will it be a week ? ” 

“ It won’t be anything a week,” said John, 
gazing at Augustus. “ He won’t have me.” 

“ What ! ” said Augustus, staring back at 
John in blank amazement. 

“ He won’t have me,” said John. 

“ Won’t have you ! ” echoed Augustus. “ But 
he musC^ 

“ He won’t,” said John. “ He can’t afford a 


128 


IN THE CITY OE UNDEH 


boy now the Kadicals are in. At least he says 
it’s that, but his wife says it’s because he will sit 
and look at the dark side of things.” 

“ But it’s the fourth time we’ve tried,” cried 
Augustus at the top of his voice. 

“ I know it is,” said John. “ And when I did 
the Charm at him he thought I was mad.” 

They gazed at each other a moment in silence. 
The Hawker had fooled them. The Charm was 
nonsense. There was nothing more to be said. 

This did not prevent Augustus from saying 
a great deal, however. He burst into a booming 
beside which all his other boomings were as 
summer breezes beside a gale. He said at the 
top of his voice that the whole thing was utter 
rot and he had thought so from the very begin- 
ning, and that the succeeding of the Miller’s 
Charm had been nothing but a fluke, and he had 
never beheved in it whatever anybody else had 
been fool enough to do, and if anybody wanted to 
go on beheving in it, they could go on by them- 
selves, because he, Augustus, had had enough of 
it, and he was going home at once and so he told 
him. 

John watched Augustus rush home. It appeared 
to him to be just the moment in which he would 


THE FAILURE OF THE FOURTH 129 


most have wished Augustus to stay. But the 
chief thing of which you could be sure in Augustus 
CHckson during a crisis was that you could not 
be quite sure of him, and when once he had 
departed booming there was nothing for it but 
to wait till he came half-way back by himself 
and then go out and try to bring him the rest 
of the way. Till an opportunity of doing this 
occurred, however, there was nothing to be done 
at all but to depart oneself. 

So John went home. He walked along silently 
and swiftly. As he went down Down Street he 
met the Ironmonger’s son. Since that rapid 
and decisive encounter with Augustus Clickson 
in the dusk the Ironmonger’s son had not only 
never jeered at John when he met him, however, 
but had never even seen him when he saw him ; 
and he now walked by in lofty unconsciousness. 

Old Mother Letitlie looked out from her door- 
way as John passed. “ And where do you come 
from now, John Hazard ? ” said she. 

“ From nowhere in particular,” said John 
resignedly. 

“ Been trying to find a job again and haven’t 
found it, I’ll be bound,” said Mother Letitlie, 
darkly. “ You’d a great deal better make up 

I 


130 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


your mind that it’s a black world and bear with 
it. However, it’s the same to me if you hke 
all this stroodhng in and out for nothing.” 

“ I don’t like it,” said John Hazard. “ I’m 
not going to do it any more.” 

He went on. When he reached No. 179, he 
went sorrowfully indoors and up to bed, taking 
no notice of anything or anybody upon his way. 
It was no use taking notice of anything. He 
never meant to again. In Down Street and in 
poverty and a black world they must all just 
go on living as best they might, and leave off 
being geniuses when the time came, and leave 
off being gentlefolk too if they had to. It was 

much best to let John ! ” called his mother’s 

voice from the bottom of the stairs, and John 
paused in his undressing, and went to the door 
and answered her. 

“ I wanted to tell you that a man came to 
see you this evening, John darling,” said his 
mother’s voice up the stairs. 

“ Who was he ? ” said John. 

“ I don’t know,” said his mother. “ He had 
a load of staves on his back, but he did not 
seem to want to sell anything. He came to the 
door and rang the bell, and when I answered it 


THE FAILURE OF THE FOURTH 131 

all he said was, ‘ Tell John Hazard I was here,’ 
and then he went away.” 

“ Oh,” said John. “ All right. Thanks.” 

“ Was he anybody that mattered ? ” said his 
mother. 

“ No,” said John. He retired into his room 
again, and shut the door, and went on undressing. 
Nobody could matter so httle as the Hawker. 
He mattered so little that John never meant 
to think of him again. He got into bed, and lay 
there in the dusk, staring at the wall ; and while 
he lay looking, the shape of the window suddenly 
came out in light on the twilit wallpaper, and the 
curtains moved softly out into the room and fell 
back again. The shadow of the cliff was begin- 
ning to advance over the city. The lamps were 
being lit, and the wind from the hills had begun 
to blow through the streets. 

John turned his face from the window, and 
shut his eyes. Every time he left off thinking 
about the Hawker something happened to make 
him think of him again. The wind among the 
hanging things on the market stalls, the wind 
blowing down Down Street at midnight when 
all the world was asleep, the wind rushing over 
the tree-tops above the stillness of the woods 


132 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


— it could not so much as move the curtains 
now without bringing with it the vision of a 
figure walking down the narrow ways of the 
market, or standing under the gas-lamp of an 
empty street, or sitting among the bracken in 
the far away twilight on the hills. And it was 
the figure of nothing more than an ordinary 
cheating street Hawker, of a common knave 
who fooled people on purpose, of a 

A sudden thought flashed into John’s mind, 
and arrested all the other thoughts passing 
through it. He opened his eyes. Did the 
Hawker fool people on purpose — or did he not ? 
He turned the question over and over, unable 
to decide it and unable to dismiss it. A question 
it certainly was, though it had never occurred 
to him as one before. 

Suppose the Hawker did not fool people on 
purpose ? Suppose it was the Hawker who was 
the fool ? Suppose he really beheved in the 
Charms he gave his customers, and would be 
as much surprised at their failure as his custo- 
mers themselves could be ? Then there could be 
no denying that it would be a very different 
matter ; and one that must be taken difierently. 
If the Hawker honestly believed himself to have 


THE FAILURE OF THE FOURTH 133 

given them something that would ensure them 
success, he might be wondering at that very 
moment why they did not come to tell him if it 
had done so or not. Perhaps that was why he 
had come to Down Street that evening — to 
remind them that they had not yet kept their 
promise to him. And the fact remained that, 
in any event, he had given them the Charm for 
nothing. Whether it was a Charm or no, it was 
a good sound carved staff that would have sold 
for money in the markets of Under. 

John came to the conclusion that, all things 
considered, it would be better to return the 
Charm politely as if it were really a Charm. 
To treat a person as a knave, when he might 
be nothing but a fool, would be unfair and 
unkind. Nobody could help being a fool. John 
composed himself resignedly anew to sleep. 

Meanwhile Augustus Chckson remained in 
lofty indignation on Wickle Hill, and this indeed 
was just as well. If the Charm had to be returned 
as if it were really a Charm, it was a matter John 
must carry out alone. There was not the 
faintest hope that Augustus could be induced 
to look upon it in anything even approaching 
a calm and happy spirit, and it was therefore 


134 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


better that it should be safely disposed of before 
the arrival of Saturday afternoon when, judging 
from past experience, John had hopes that 
Augustus, finding himself lonely, might descend 
from Wickle Hill and the heights of his indigna- 
tion, even if he boomed slightly while he 
did so. 

So John started at five next day straight 
from the school door for the precipice of Under 
without returning home even for his tea. There 
was no market in Under on Wednesdays, so it was 
useless looking for the Hawker in the markets, 
and even if he travelled as fast as he could 
from then on, he could not hope to get back 
from the hills till late. He chmbed the waterfall 
with the Charm fastened to his back by the 
belt of his Norfolk jacket; 'and started up the 
slopes. When he reached the little house in the 
glade between the dark close -standing trees, a 
glance told him that he had come in vain. The 
door was shut, and the chain up. 

John stood still in resigned vexation. Now 
he would have to go searching for the Hawker 
in the markets again on the morrow, and if he 
failed to find him there, he must come all the 
way up to the glade once more. He debated 


THE FAILURE OF THE FOURTH 135 


whether it would not do just as well if he stood 
the Charm up against the door, and left it there. 
The Hawker would probably conclude that it 
had worked successfully, and that they had 
come to the glade to tell him so, and not finding 
him, had left the Charm there that it might tell 
its own tale and be ready in case he wanted to 
give it to somebody else who also needed help 
in difficulty. That was as good a conclusion 
as any for him to come to. At any rate, he 
would see that they had made a polite effort 
to find him, which, after all, was the chief thing. 
So John advanced towards the little house to 
carry out this purpose, and at that moment he 
heard a footstep on the turf, and round the 
corner of the little house came a woman carrying 
a basket. She started when she saw John. 

“ It’s only me,” said John reassuringly. 

“ You startled me very much,” said the 
woman, sighing. “ Do you know if this is 
where the Hawker lives — ^the Hawker who sells 
staves and Charms ? ” 

“ Yes,” said John. “ This is it, but he’s not 
here.” 

“ I knew he wouldn’t be,” said the woman, 
the tears springing to her eyes, “ I never can 


136 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


remember things turning out just as I want 
them to, and what shall I do now ? ” 

She set down the basket to dry her eyes. She 
was dressed in a very tidy dress, and her hair 
was very smooth, and her hat very neat, and her 
apron beautifully darned. “ I’ve come all the 
way up from Under by the railway to find him 
because he wasn’t in the markets,” she said 
with tears. “ I’ve been walking up here 
for hours and hours, and what shall I do 
now ? ” 

“ What was it you wanted to do ? ” asked 
John, soothingly. 

“ I wanted to pay him for a Charm he sold 
me,” said the woman. “ The Hawker isn’t one 
you dare put off paying longer than you can 
help, and I never can find him in the markets.” 

“ Is it a Charm that has worked ? ” said John. 

“ Yes, it’s a Charm that has worked,” said the 
woman. 

“ Couldn’t you perhaps leave him what you’ve 
brought him since he isn’t here for you to give 
it him ? ” suggested John. 

“ I expect he’d be angry,” said the woman, 
sighing, “ when I remember how easily men get 
angry 1 ” 


THE FAILURE OF THE FOURTH 137 


“ I don’t see why he should be angry,” said 
John, considering. 

“Well, I’d better leave it, I suppose,” said the 
woman. “ I don’t know when I shall be able to 
come all this way again.” She picked up her basket, 
and went towards the doorstep of the httle house. 
“ He’ll know who it was that left moorland honey 
on his doorstep for him. anyway,” she said, with 
mournful pride. “ Ah, the bees in the heather ! ” 
Then John remembered her, in spite of her 
tidiness and her smoothness and her mended 
apron. 

“ Does Thomas come back to you now when 
you call him ? ” he said. 

“ Yes, he comes back,” said the woman, 
“ but I don’t know that it isn’t just as bad as 
when he didn’t. You could hardly say he ever 
goes away now, and the sewing and mending 
and neatening I have to do to keep the Charm 
at work and him in the house is enough to 
make you cry. When I remember how com- 
fortable I was in my father’s farm ! Still, the 
other women in the street can’t say now that 
I don’t have my husband at home just as much 
as they do,” said the woman, mournfully dabbing 
at her eyes. 


138 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


When John went cliff wards through the forest 
again, the Charm was still in his hand. There 
was, of course, nothing to show that the success 
of the mournful woman’s Charm had not been 
as much due to a lucky chance as the success 
of the miller’s Charm had been ; but if these 
lucky chances happened to the Hawker’s Charms 
very often, it was small wonder if he really 
believed them to be Charms. At any rate there 
was still more ground now for beheving that he 
did believe in them than there had been before ; 
and while to leave payment for a Charm on a 
doorstep was quite a polite and right thing to 
do, to leave a Charm itself there, without thanks 
or explanation, was hardly the way to return 
his gift to a man who had given it in good 
faith. 

It took less time to come down from the hills 
than it did to go up into them, but even so, it 
was dark when John set foot on the waste lands 
again, and the wind was sighing along the paths 
between the rubbish heaps. He crossed the 
station bridge and came out into the street by 
the railways. All the shops and offices of the 
city were closing, and numbers of people who 
lived in the suburbs and wanted to get back to 


THE FAILURE OF THE FOURTH 139 


them by train, were rushing across the street 
and into the station. 

John was making his way slowly against the 
stream when he heard a voice near him say 
loudly, “ Stop, my man, stop. I forgot to get 
Mariamne a stick in town to-day; I want to 
get Mariamne a stick. I am always explaining 
to Mariamne the value of domestic pleasures, 
and I wish to get her a stick to encourage her 
to. take little walks about the garden. Make 
haste, my man, make haste. My train is due ” ; 
and a little to his left he saw the tall figure of the 
Hawker, towering above the crowds that hurried 
past him, while another shorter figure danced an 
impatient dance up and down in front of him. 

John waited till the bargain had been con- 
cluded and paid for, and the short figure bearing 
Mariamne’s stick had whirled away stationwards 
on the stream of people ; and then he appeared 
in front of the Hawker, and said “ Good evening.” 

“ Good evening,” said the Hawker, swinging 
his load of staves up on to his shoulders. 

“I’ve brought you back the Charm, Hawker,” 
said John. 

“ Why ? ” said the Hawker. 

“ Well, it hasn’t quite succeeded,” said John. 


140 


IN THE CITY OE UNDER 


“ Not quite, it hasn’t. But Clickson and I 
don’t blame you in the least, Hawker. You 
said all Charms wouldn’t work for everybody, 
you know, and I expect Chckson and I happen 
to be the kind of people they won’t work for.” 

“ Oh,” said the Hawker. He stood a moment 
in silence, looking at John. “ Well, go on,” he 
said. 

“ And as it wouldn’t work for us,” said John, 
“ I’ve brought it back in case you want to give 
it to somebody else it will work for. And thank 
you very much indeed. Hawker, but Clickson 
and I rather think we won’t bother about it 
any more. We rather think it will be better 
just to leave things be now, thanks very much.” 

“ Oh,” said the Hawker again, and again he 
stood looking at John a moment in silence. 

“ Well,” he said, “ it will certainly be no fault 
of yours if you have to decide to turn back after 
all and go no further.” 

“ No,” said John. 

“ For four separate times have you tried the 
Charm,” said the Hawker, “ and each time have 
you tried your utmost.” 

“ Oh well,” said John. “ Well, I don’t know 
that we exactly tried our utmost, Hawker — at 


THE FAILUKE OF THE FOURTH 141 


least we didn’t all the four times. You see, we 
knew it couldn’t succeed the first three times, 
so it wasn’t worth while bothering to try. I 
think we only really tried very hard the last 

time, as a matter of fact. We ” John 

paused suddenly, as a perfectly new idea flashed 
into his mind. 

The Hawker, in silence, pulled his load higher 
up on to his shoulders, and going on towards 
the station, disappeared in the crowd that was 
sweeping over the bridge. 

“ Where’ ve you been ? ” said old Mother 
Letitlie, emerging from her dark reflections for 
a moment as John passed her doorstep later that 
evening. 

“ Up the cliff,” said John. 

“ I thought you’d left off stroodhng up and 
down for nothing,” said old Mother Letitlie. 
“ There’s those about will make you go further 
than the chff some day, my lad, unless I’m much 
mistaken. Go on, go on, go away. Don’t 
stand there on one leg ; it makes me nervous,” 
said old Mother Letithe, gazing out afj Down 
Street. 


CHAPTER IX 
The House of Mariamne 

The next day, as soon as school was over, John 
set out swiftly to seek Augustus Clickson ; and 
as he hastened up Wickle Hill, he met Augustus 
rushing down it. When Augustus perceived 
John, he stopped short and said, “ If you think 
I was coming down to look for you, John Hazard, 
you’re jolly well mistaken, because I wasn’t.” 

“ I wasn’t thinking anything,” said John, 
“ I’ve got something to tell you.” 

“ What about,” said Augustus suspiciously. 

“ About the Charm,” said John. 

“ The Charm,” cried Augustus Clickson, at 
the top of his voice. “ Bo you mean to tell me 
you’re still thinking of that beastly rot ! Then 
you can just go on thinking about it alone, and 
so I tell you. I was only this minute coming 
down to find you, but if you’re going to go on 
with that footling game, you can go on with it 
by yourself, and so 1 tell you.” 

142 


THE HOUSE OF MARIAMNE 143 


“ All right, I will,’’ said John, and he left 
Augustus and returned thoughtfully to his home. 
Augustus was greatly surprised. It had never 
occurred to him that anybody could ever seriously 
bring themselves to leave him. 

When John emerged from No. 179 a little 
later the same evening with his hair brushed 
and his boots blacked and the Charm in his 
left hand, the first thing he beheld was Augustus 
Clickson leaping abstractedly on the edge of the 
pavement with his hands in his pockets. 

What was it you wanted so much to tell 
me about that Charm, Hazard ? ” inquired 
Augustus mildly when he saw John. So John 
told him, and the minute it was presented to 
him, Augustus saw the point. He said immedi- 
ately that the whole thing was as clear as 
dayhght and it was a great pity John had not 
thought of it before. There could be no doubt 
whatever, Augustus said strongly, that they had 
never given the Charm a chance at all, for you 
certainly cannot try without trying, and trying 
was exactly the thing that he and John had 
never done except once. When he had recovered 
from the surprise of realizing this, Augustus 
added that he had felt something of the sort 


144 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


from the very beginning and that nothing but 
deference to John’s opinion on the folly of trying 
to do things you knew you couldn’t, had 
prevented him from saying so ages ago. 

“ Well, where shall we try now ? ” said John. 

That was indeed a question. They walked to 
the end of Down Street and stood there consider- 
ing. They had tried every possible place within 
reach of Down Street and a good many places 
that were not possible, and where it would be 
best to go to look for some unknown street 
where they could try again, it was for the moment 
difficult to say. 

As they stood gazing out on the crowded 
thoroughfare that passed the end of Down 
Street, they heard a famihar cry rising above the 
noise of the traffic : “ Staves to sell, staves to sell.” 

“ Hullo, there’s the Hawker,” said Augustus. 
“ Let’s go and see what he’s doing down here.” 

So they threaded their way down the street 
between the lines of booths, and, not hearing the 
Hawker’s cry again, came up with him so sud- 
denly that they nearly ran into him. He was 
standing in the middle of the street, his passage 
barred by two embittered costermongers who, 
in the energy of a dispute in which nobody they 


THE HOUSE OF MARIAMNE 145 


knew would take any interest, had seized upon 
the nearest person they did not know and insisted 
upon his being umpire. 

“ What I says is,” said one costermonger, 
banging one fist into another, “ ’e’s done me.” 

“ I ain’t done ’im,” asserted the other 
costermonger. “ I ain’t done nobody.” 

“ ’E ’as,” said the first costermonger. “ ’E’s 
done me brown. ‘ Gimme tuppence, Bill,’ 
says ’e to me, ‘an’ I’ll recommeng your Hed- 
ward,’ says ’e, ‘to a sitooation as boot-boy at 
20, Wickle ’ill, where ’e does odd jobs, as any 
nobleman might be proud to accep,’ says he. 
So I gives ’im the tuppence, me bein’ wilhn’ to 
lay out somethink for the boy’s career, an’ when 
Hedward went to get the place, they larfed at ’im. 
‘ Is this the way you recommeng my Hedward ? ’ 
says I to ’im ” 

“ Get out, you silly hass,” said the second 
costermonger, suddenly losing his patience. “ I 
did recommeng your Hedward. ‘ There’ll be a 
boy cornin’ arter your place,’ says I to the cook, 

‘ ’oose father I know dahn our way,’ says I, ‘ an’ 
a siUier bhghter I never see, an’ I expect ’is 
son’s ’is son,’ says I. An’ if that ain’t recom- 
mending of a person, I don’t know what is.” 

K 


146 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


At this the first costermonger became perfectly 
frozen, and gazed upon the second costermonger 
in a dreadful manner that might have portended 
almost anything, had not a large market cart, 
which beheved itself to be the right size for the 
street, come crushing down the narrow passage 
between the booths and obliged everybody to 
rush for the sides amid a torrent of strong 
language from those who beheved it not to be 
the right size. John and Augustus and the 
Hawker and the costermongers were temporarily 
borne away from each other by the sudden move- 
ment ; and when the cart had got past two 
booths by the simple expedient of knocking 
one of them over, and was pursuing its way down 
the street with a stream of shouts and screams 
dividing before the horse’s head like waves 
before a steamer’s prow, every one flowed out 
from the sides into the roadway again, and 
John and Augustus found themselves near 
the Hawker. 

“ Twenty, Wickle Hill,” said Augustus, re- 
flectively ; “ That’s next-door to us.” 

“ Is it ? ” said the Hawker. “ WeU, if Edward 
didn’t get the boot-boy’s place, perhaps it’s still 
to be had.” 


THE HOUSE OF MARIAMNE 147 


“ Would it do for one of the tries, should you 
think ? ” said Augustus, surprised. 

“ Well, I don’t see why not,” said the Hawker ; 
and the costermongers having rushed for different 
sides and not having been able as yet to find 
each other again, he went on down the street, 
crying, “ Staves to sell, staves to sell.” 

“ Come on,” said Augustus. “ I know the 
house quite well. It’s only just been let, and 
the people moved in a day or two ago.” 

“ Do I want to be a boot-boy ? ” said John 
thoughtfully. 

“ No, you don’t, and you won’t be, or you 
wouldn’t try to be, my good chap,” said Augustus 
CHckson, strongly, “ but you’ve got to try as if 
you did want to be, for all that, and so I tell you. 
You ought always to have tried hke that, and 
there was your mistake, and I’ve said so from 
the very beginning. Come on.” 

The home of Augustus stood on the top of 
what was called Wickle Hill, a shght elevation 
which would probably not have been observed 
to be a hill anywhere else but in Under. The 
house was a large and beautiful red building, 
with gables and Greek pillars, “ standing in its 
own garden,” as the advertisements said, though 


148 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


why they should have troubled to mention that 
it would be hard to say, since very few houses 
stand in other people’s gardens, of course. How- 
ever, perhaps they did it because these were the 
only houses in Under that stood in any gardens 
at all. Every house in Wickle Hill had its 
garden ; and a back lane with a high wall with 
red doors in it ran behind them all. John and 
Augustus went to the red door next to the red 
door that led into the back garden of Augustus’ 
home, and there Augustus waited, lest the cook 
should make the same mistake that the shop- 
keepers had and prefer him to John, and John 
pushed open the red door and went in. A 
flagged path led between black currant bushes 
and scullery dusters to the back door ; and 
John walked along it and knocked. There came 
a Kitchenmaid instantly and plunged into speech. 
“ If you’re the poulterer round the corner,” she 
said rapidly, “ it’s no good, because we’re Stores.” 

“ I’m not the poulterer round the corner,” 
said John surprised. 

“ Well, it’s no good if you’re any think,” said 
the Kitchenmaid. “ I’m sure we’ve ’ad all the 
shops in Under call already, but Master’s that 
suspicious ’e will be Stores.” 


THE HOUSE OF MAEUMNE 149 


“ I’m sorry he will be Stores if you don’t want 
him to be,” said John, politely ; “ but what 
I came to ask was, would I do for a boot-boy, 
do you think ? ” and he clasped the Charm 
and swept his right hand from his forehead to 
the ground. 

The Kitchenmaid surveyed him for a moment 
with immense surprise and interest; then she 
shrieked, “ Cook, Cook, I say. Come ’ere, 
Cook,” and the Cook came hurrying with a 
ladle in her hand and looked over the kitchen- 
maid’s shoulder. 

“ ’Ere’s the Prince of Wales in disguise. Cook, 
an’ will ’e do for bewt-boy, do you think ? ” said 
the Kitchenmaid. 

“I’m not the Prince of Wales in disguise,” 
said John, hastily. 

“ Ah, ’is parients is fell in the world, I expect,” 
said the Cook, sighing. 

“ Is they fell in the world, my boy ? ” inquired 
the Kitchenmaid, with romantic interest. 

“ No, yes, no,” said John. “ Would I do for 
boot-boy, do you think ? ” 

Neither of the persons he addressed took the 
least notice of his question. The Cook said 
dreamily, “ ’E’s very different to the larst one 


150^ ^ IN THE CITY OF UNDER 

as come, isn’t ’e, Heller ? And if there is a thing 
I ’ave a nankering after it’s a curl in the ’air ” ; 
and the Kitchenmaid rephed sympathetically, 
“ Ah, pore thing, you would do.” 

John looked at them with the greatest uneasi- 
ness, and stood on one leg. Nothing but the 
memory of the condition attached to the success 
of the Charm kept him from departing forth- 
with — so sentimentally did they lean upon each 
other and with such a far-away smile did they 
regard him. 

“ I can clean knives,” he said, standing upon 
the other leg, “ and boots.” 

Whereupon the Cook sighed again and re- 
marked, “ And as to a pretty manner, Heller, 
let a person ’ave a pretty manner, an’ it’s all I 
arsk,” and the Kitchenmaid sighed also and 
replied, “ So it is all I do.” 

John waited another moment, and finding 
that neither of them seemed capable of coming 
to the business in hand, he brought them to it 
himself, with what firmness he could. 

“ Well, I don’t think it’s all you ought to ask,” 
he said. There are a great many things that 
are far more important in a boot-boy. You don’t 
even know my name and age yet, for instance. 


THE HOUSE OF MARIAMNE 151 


My name’s John Hazard and I’m twelve. Should 
I do for boot-boy, do you think ? ” 

“ ’E’s a character,^'' said the Kitchenmaid, 
with a gasp of surprise, and the deep conviction 
of one who now saw all clear before her. “ That’s 
what ’e is.” 

“ Should I ? ” said John, desperately, and 
almost as loudly as Augustus might have 
done. 

“ What do you think, Heller ? ” said the Cook, 
thoughtfully. 

“ Oh, / think ’e would,” said the Kitchenmaid. 
“ Look at the way you could larf at ’im.” 

John gazed at her in not unnatural astonish- 
ment, and the Cook said, sighing, “ It’s all very 
well for you, Heller, with your light ’eart. What 
Vm lookin’ at is the comfort it ’ud be to ’ave 
some one in the kitchen as could speak perhte 
when spoke to.” 

“ Ah, pore thing, you would do,” said the 
Kitchenmaid. 

“ That’s what Vm lookin’ at, Heller, an’ there 
may be those as will feel their mistake in speakin’ 
to a young lady as they do speak to ’er which 
’ardly can they be said to speak to ’er at all when 
they see the manner in which a young lady 


152 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


shovld be spoke to though nothin’ but a bewt- 
boy,” said the Cook, all in one breath. “ You 
can come to-morrer, my boy. The choosing of 
the bewt-boys is left to mo, an’ you can come 
to-morrer.” 

John gazed at her, petrified. 

“ I suppose you go to school still, you bein’ 
the age you are,” continued the Cook, “ an’ 
you’d better come after school to-morrer for the 
first time, an’ then in between too as usual. You 
can see the Missus an’ tell ’er anything she seems 
to fancy ’earing, but she won’t bother you much, 
nor never would bother no one if Master’d only 
let ’er be. All she wants to do is to sing by 
night and day, pore soul, a-tryin’ to get up to 
top notes as it’s evident she never can, they 
bein’ little else besides an ’owl. Well, Heller, 
we’d oughter be gettin’ on with the dinner, I 
suppose.” 

“ Then have I got the place as boot -boy ? ” said 
John, faintly. 

“ Certainly you ’ave, my boy,” said the Cook, 
graciously. “The choosing of the bewt-boys is 
left to me, an’ you can come to-morrer.” 

Two minutes later John walked agitatedly forth 
upon Augustus Chckson, and said, “ I’ve got it.” 


THE HOUSE OP MARIAMNE 153 

“ Got what ? ” said Augustus, with a start. 

“ Got the place as boot -boy,” said John. 

“ But you can’t have,” cried Augustus, aghast. 
“ It’s only the second time.” 

“ I know,” said John. “ But I have. And I 
don’t want to be a boot -boy.” 

They looked at each other. There was a 
dreadful silence. Then Augustus Clickson said 
in an awful voice that grew louder and louder 
with every word, “Well, this time I Tiave had 
enough. This time I have. I gave the silly rot 
another chance, but this is a bit too much. I’ve 
had enough of the whole thing. I’ve had 
enough ” 

“ Then why complain ? ” said a high voice 
behind them. “ Enough is as good as a feast. 
Why complain ? ” 

John and Augustus looked round with a 
start. A short, stout gentleman stood in the 
lane, regarding them with a suspicious counten- 
ance. “ What are you doing at my back door, 
complaining at the top of your voices like this ? ” 
he demanded. 

Augustus was so taken aback he could think 
of nothing to say but “ My gracious ! ” and John 
could think of nothing at all. If this short 


154 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


stout gentleman owned that back door, then he 
owned the garden and the house and all that was 
in it, and John was his boot -boy. It was obviously 
impossible to explain to him why they were 
complaining. 

“ What is this ? ” cried the short gentleman, 
angrily. “ You have a very guilty appeari nee 
indeed, both of you. I insist on being answered. 
Do you hear me ? Who are you ? ” 

There was no time to think things out, or to 
decide what to tell him. “ I’m your boot-boy,” 
stammered John, that being the thing which was 
uppermost in his mind and quite the worst thing 
he could have told anybody. 

“ My hoot-hoy !” cried the short gentleman, in 
great surprise. “ I haven’t got a boot-boy. At 
least I know I hadn’t when I left the house this 
morning. What is this ? Who has engaged you, 
pray ? ” 

“ The Cook,” said John, and at that the short 
gentleman nearly bounded out of his skin, which 
already looked as if it had been stretched further 
than it had been originally meant to go. 

“ What ! ” he shrieked. “ The Cook ! Can I 
believe my ears ! The Cook ! ” 

Well, she said she did,” said John, rather 


THE HOUSE OF MARIAMNE 155 


taken aback by the short gentleman’s furious 
reception of his news. “ I think she engaged 
me because of my hair curling.” The reason 
which the Kitchenmaid had given for engaging 
him crossed John’s mind also, but he passed 
that over in the silence which best befitted 
it. 

“ Is it to this length that Mariamne carries 
the lack of discipline in her household ! ” cried 
the short gentleman in extraordinary excitement. 
“Am I to believe my ears! The Cook has the 
choosing of the boot -boys ! Impossible ! In- 
credible ! This is the result of this continued 
and incessant pouring up and down to the piano 
on the part of Mariamne ! This is the conse- 
quence of Mariamne’ s absorption in frivolous 
pursuits ! How often do I say to her, ‘ Mariamne, 

I say, Mariamne ’ But I will go instantly 

and say it to her again ” He rushed to the 

door in the wall, and there pulled himself up 
abruptly. “ And here,” he cried, apostrophizing 
the universe, “ is a worthy little boot-boy who 
has to be cruelly disappointed as the direct result 
of Mariamne’ s lack of discipline in her household ! 
Here am I obliged to apologize to a boot -boy ! 
Boot-boy, I apologize I You can’t be boot-boy.” 


166 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


He dived into all his pockets, one after another, 
and after a frantic search produced a shilling. 

If you were to be boot -boy now that the Cook 
has engaged you, she would think she had 
engaged you, and all discipline in the household 
would be for ever at an end,” he said. “ You 
can’t be boot-boy. Here’s a shilling. Compensa- 
tion. And the cruel disappointment of this 
worthy little boot-boy,” cried the short gentle- 
man, once more apostrophizing the universe, 
“ is the direct result of Mariamne’s lack of 
disciphne in her household.” 

He bounded speechlessly through the door, and 
it slammed behind him, and John and Augustus 
were left looking at each other in the back lane. 
So much had happened so fast, and so many 
people had said so many different things in so 
short a time, that it was not till they had nearly 
reached the middle of the back lane that their 
minds began to clear. Then it became evident, 
however, that whether from one cause or another, 
they had certainly not got the place they had 
asked for, and the Charm was apparently work- 
ing. A further question developed from the 
further consideration of the situation. Had 
they any moral right to that shilhng ? It had 


THE HOUSE OF MAEIAMNE 157 


been given to John to compensate him for his 
disappointment at not being a boot-boy, and 
if there were one thing in the world at which 
he was not disappointed, it was at not being a 
boot -boy. They decided, therefore, reluctantly, 
and after some discussion, that it had better be 
returned ; and after a good deal of thought they 
arranged that, all explanations being perfectly 
impossible, they would merely ask the footman 
at the front door for the master of the house, 
place the shilling in his hand when he arrived, 
with many thanks and no explanation at all, 
and swiftly retire from the scene before he should 
have time to recover from his surprise sufficiently 
to ask them any questions. This seemed a 
feasible plan, and it especially recommended 
itself to John as eliminating all need of further 
contact with the Cook or the Kitchenmaid. 

So they went back and entered the garden, 
intending to walk through it round the house 
to the front, as, being in the middle of the long 
row of houses, it was some distance round to the 
front by road. They had safely negotiated the 
region of the black currant bushes, and were 
hastening cheerfully along a path at the side of 
the house, when their plans received a sudden 


158 


IN THE CITY OF UNDEK 


check that once more threw all into confusion. 
They heard the sound of someone pouring up 
and down in vocal scales to the accompaniment 
of a piano, and at the same moment the person 
who was pouring apparently heard them. The 
sound ceased, and at the glass door that stood 
open just where John and Augustus were passing, 
there suddenly appeared the figure of a lady. 
John and Augustus paused involuntarily and 
raised their caps, and the lady looked at them, 
and said, “Do you want anything ? ” 

“ We want the master of the house, please,” 
said John, recovering himself. 

“ He’s just gone out,” said the lady. “ He 
rushed in by the back door and almost immedi- 
ately afterwards he rushed out by the front. 
But I’m the mistress of the house. Wouldn’t I 
do?” 

So this was Mariamne, to whom the stout 
gentleman had bounded in to say “ Mariamne, 
Mariamne,” anent the lack of discipline in her 
household. It did not appear to have dis- 
turbed her much. She had a reflective counten- 
ance. 

But John and Augustus glanced at each other 
uncertainly, for where all explanations are 


THE HOUSE OF MARIAMNE 159 

impossible, it is awkward to meet with someone 
to whom one may have to explain. 

“ Won’t 7 do ? ” said Mariamne. 

“ I’m afraid not, thanks,” said John, politely. 
“ We’ll come again.” 

“ Why won’t I do ? ” said Mariamne, dis- 
appointed. 

“ I’m afraid we couldn’t explain it to you,” 
said John . 

“ Try,” said Mariamne, encouragingly. “ I’m 
accustomed to being explained to. As a matter 
of fact the only things I can’t see are the things 
no one need explain.” 

John and Augustus looked at each other again, 
and Augustus put his hands in his pockets and 
leapt, which was very illuminative of his own 
state of mind, but did not do much towards 
illuminating anybody else’s. He appeared unable 
to offer any other suggestion, however, so John 
made an attempt alone. 

“ Well, this is a shilling,” he said. 

“ I can see that,” said Mariamne, hope- 
fully. 

“ And that gentleman gave it to me because 
he thought I was disappointed at not being a 
boot-boy; but I am not, so we’ve brought it 


160 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


back,” said John. “ And thank him very much, 
please. That’s all.” 

“ Oh, so you were the worthy httle boot -boy 
who was so cruelly disappointed at not being 
able to be boot -boy,” said Mariamne, as one 
enlightened. 

“ Yes,” said John. “ But the thing is, I 
wasn’t.” 

“ What weren’t you ? ” said Mariamne. 

“ Disappointed,” said John. 

“ Not ? ” said Mariamne, surprised. “ How 
subtle. Why not ? ” 

“ Because I didn’t want to be a boot-boy,” said 
John. 

“ Had somebody told you you had to be ? ” 
said Mariamne, sympathetically. 

“ No, thanks,” said John. 

Mariamne gazed at him in still greater 
surprise. 

“ Then why on earth did you try to be ? ” she 
said. 

Once more did John and Augustus look at 
each other and once more did Augustus thought- 
fully and abstractedly leap. The only truthful 
answer John could give to that question was : 
“ Because I knew I couldn’t be,” and that was 


THE HOUSE OF MARIAMNE 161 

the one answer it was obviously impossible to 
make. 

“ We can’t tell you,” he said, firmly. Here’s 
the shilling. Please explain to the gentleman. 
Good-bye.” 

“ How can I explain what I don’t see myself,” 
said Mariamne. “ And he’s not the sort of 
person you can explain to, anyhow. He only sees 
the things no one need explain. However, if 

you won’t tell me ! ” She sighed. “ Will 

you come in and have some tea ? ” she said. 

“ No thanks,” said John and Augustus 
simultaneously. 

Have you far to go to get home ? ” said 
Mariamne. 

“ Only as far as Down Street, thanks,” said 
John. 

Augustus, who had only as far as next door to 
go to get home, remained discreetly silent. 

“ Well, good-bye,” said Mariamne. “ I think 
it’s a pity you cannot be a boot-boy. I think 
the Cook was very clever to engage you, and I 
shall tell her so.” 

“ I don’t think a curl in the hair is a very good 
reason to engage a boot-boy,” said John. 

“ 1 do,” said Mariamne. “ The best of reasons. 

L 


162 IN THE CITY OF UNDER 

You couldn’t engage him for a curl anywhere else, 
anyway.” 

They shook hands, and John and Augustus 
departed, and Mariamne watched them go with 
a pensive face. Not till they were right out of 
the neighbourhood of Wickle Hill did they feel 
that they were really safely out of that stout 
gentleman’s back garden, and even then John 
had the feeling that he might at any moment 
come to with a start and find himself a boot-boy. 

By that time the cliff shadow was beginning to 
move forward over the streets, and on Thursday 
all the best shops in Under closed at seven, 
which the owners of the shops called Early 
Closing, though nobody else did. John and 
Augustus decided that it would be better to 
postpone further trial of the Charm till next day. 
So Augustus turned about and rushed up Wickle 
Hill again and John continued on his road home. 

Mother Letitlie took no notice of him as he 
passed her doorstep. She was asleep in her 
chair, her hands folded on her lap. 


CHAPTER X 

The Professor Tries to Cook 

There was, on the northern side of the city, 
where the river and the railway and the highway 
ran together out of Under, a large new region of 
shops and little houses springing up around 
some new factories .which had lately been built 
on that part of the river ; and here, after much 
consultation, John and Augustus decided to 
prosecute the third and fourtlrtrials of the Charm 
the next day. j 

Their quickest way to this quarter of the city 
was by the street by the local railways for the 
first half mile, and then along one side of the 
market-place, and then by a devious road through 
a warren of little lanes and byways that stretched 
thence to the riverside. John and Augustus 
paused on their journey when they reached the 
market to turn aside for a moment and look in 
upon the Hawker in his comer. The market- 
place was emptying, for the Friday market was a 

163 


164 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


small and unimportant one and never lasted late, 
and the cliff shadow was already beginning to 
move forward over the city. The Hawker, 
when they found him, was binding his few 
remaining staves together preparatory to de- 
parture ; and just as John and Augustus came 
up, a railway porter came up too, and said to 
the Hawker in a melancholy voice, “ I suppose 
you don’t ’appen to ’ave picked up a letter lyin’ 
about anywheres ? I don’ know ’ow it is, but 
I always seem to be losin’ things.” 

“ No, Tm afraid I haven’t,” said the Hawker. 

“ Nor yet I don’t suppose you could tell me 
where to look for it ? ” inquired the porter. 

“ No, I’m afraid I can’t,” said the Hawker. 

“ I thought perreps you might,” said the 
porter, sighing. “You bein’ the sorter queer 
chap they say you are, I thought perreps if you 
’eld your ’ead an’ shut your eyes so as not to 
be able to see hanythink, you could see things 
without them bein’ there to see, as it were. I 
am sure I’d be wilUn’ to give anybody a thrip- 
pence if they could see where that there letter is. 
I know I ’ad it when I went accrost the market, 
so it must be somewheres about. But I always 
seem to be losin’ things, an’ I’ve forgotten the 


THE PROFESSOB TRIES TO COOK 165 


address on it into the bargain, an’ that there 
httle girawffe in glasses as give it to me out of 
the Glasgow mail this mornin ’e said it was 
hurgent an’anded me sixpence to dehver it. 
It’s a dreadful thing for a man as joined the 
Blew Ribbon at three years of age to ’ave a 
sixpence ’e can’t give back again nor yet earn. 
But / don’t know where I dropped it. I always 
seem to be losin’ things.” He wandered dis- 
consolately away and they heard him asking 
everybody as he went, “I suppose you ’aven’t 
seen a letter lyin’ anywheres about ? I don’ 
know where I dropped it.” 

“ Of course he doesn’t know where he dropped 
it, or else he would go and pick it up,” said 
Augustus. “ He sounds an idiot.” 

“He dropped it there,” said the Hawker, 
pointing. In the dust in the shadow of the 
Hawker’s staves, John and Augustus saw a 
square white patch lying on the ground. 
“ Where’s he gone ? ” said John, hurriedly 
picking it up ; and they pursued the porter in 
haste. But he seemed to have completely dis- 
appeared into the dimness of the market-place 
with its crowd of departing people, and they 
had to return, baffled, to the Hawker. 


166 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


“ It’s marked ‘ urgent ’—I expect it ought to 
be delivered,” said the Hawker. “ Perhaps you 
could deliver it on your road ; and he took up 
his staves, and went away across the market- 
place. John and Augustus waited a few moments 
to see if the porter would come drifting back 
again explaining to everybody that he always 
seemed to be losing things ; but nobody came. 
More and more people went away, and John 
and Augustus were left almost alone in the 
market-place. The address on the letter was 
“ Professor Pree, Rider’s Lane, Hand Street,” a 
spot of which neither John nor Augustus had 
ever heard before, and Augustus did not en- 
deavour to conceal his opinion of people who 
undertook to deliver urgent letters and then 
dropped them about so that other people had 
to postpone equally urgent business in order 
to deliver them themselves. A person who 
always seemed to be losing things ought to decide 
conclusively that he could not deliver anything 
at all, Augustus held. Nor was his indignation 
lessened by the extreme difficulty they ex- 
perienced in finding Rider’s Lane, Hand Street ; 
for which they had to look so long that Augustus 
stopped to boom in the middle of the street and 


THE PROFESSOR TRIES TO COOK 167 


declared his intention of looking no longer. 
John stopped also, for an uncertain moment, 
during which he wavered between a conviction 
that it was not worth while to look for the way 
to Hand Street any more and a memory of the 
manner in which they had found the way out 
of another street merely by continuing to look 
for what certainly did not seem to be there. 
A vision of Professor Pree, clearly a man of 
some position, waiting in surprised speculation for 
the delayed delivery of his urgent letter also rose 
before him. So he said he thought it would be 
better to try a few more streets before giving up, 
and when Augustus refused, he walked on 
trying by himself, though listening in some 
anxiety to the fury with which Augustus howled 
to him to return. Shortly afterwards, however, 
Augustus suddenly calmed down and hastened 
after him ; and they proceeded together. 

At last, by dint of frequent inquiries, they 
found Hand Street, and a little later they ran 
the Professor to ground in a narrow dismal 
disused little mews which they had twice looked 
into and twice rejected as being an impossible 
place for a Professor to be living in. But since 
he certainly appeared to be living nowhere else, 


168 


IN THE CITY OF UNDEE 


they decided to see whether he could really be 
so mistaken as to be living there, and discovered 
to their surprise that he was, though nobody else 
seemed to be making the same mistake. On a 
small brass plate beneath a small and flickering 
lamp that appeared to wish to go out altogether 
sooner than remain any longer in Rider’s Lane, 
John and Augustus found the same name that 
was on the letter they carried — “ Professor Free.” 
So they rang the bell. Instantly a tremendous 
noise arose inside the house, and someone came 
rattling down a staircase for which Professor 
Free had apparently not yet been able to afford 
a carpet. The door was flung open and a loud 
voice cried into Rider’s Lane, in welcoming tones 
of the utmost relief and satisfaction, “ Brown ! ” 
John and Augustus were so much surprised 
at the appearance of the person who thus hailed 
them, that for a moment they could only gaze 
at him in silence. He was tall and exceedingly 
thin ; and he wore a large top hat, and two pairs 
of spectacles, and a rubber mask, all pushed up 
together on his forehead. He also had on an 
old and very dirty apron, full of holes, and a 
boot on one foot and a red carpet slipper on 
the other. He carried an iron spoon, and a 


THE PROFESSOB TRIES TO COOK 169 

most dreadful smell had issued from the door at 
the same moment that he did. 

“ We aren’t Brown,” said John, recovering 
himself, while Augustus put his hands in his 
pockets and thoughtfully leapt in the air. 

“ Not ? ” cried the thin man in a high voice. 

“No,” said John. 

“ Then where’s Brown ? ” cried the thin man. 
“ Most strange ! ” and he looked anxiously into 
the dusk beyond the boys as though he hoped 
to find Brown seated on the ground behind 
them. 

“ I’m afraid we don’t know where he is,” said 
John. “ We’ve brought a letter for Professor 
Pree.” 

“ I am Professor Pree,” said the Professor, 
hastily taking the letter. “ Where’s Brown ? ” 

“ We don’t know,” said John. 

“ ” cried the Professor in a high voice. 

He abstractedly opened the letter. “ I’m ex- 
pecting Brown,” he said. “ Brown is my boy. 
Brown went to buy some paper this morning. He 
may be back any moment. I can’t think why 
Brown isn’t back now. Most strange. There’s 
nothing to eat when Brown isn’t here. He’s 
been here for years and so has the woman and 


170 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


now she’s not here either. Most strange. Why 
should anyone write me a letter ? Most strange. 

I can’t see to read it. Where are my glasses ? 
I haven’t got any glasses.” He turned to rush 
upstairs. 

“ You’ve got two pairs tangled up on 
your head,” said Augustus, with clearness. 
It was plain to him that the Professor was 
insane. 

“ Indeed,” said the Professor. “ So I have. 
Most strange.” He disentangled one with diffi- 
culty and proceeded to study the letter by the 
light of the discouraged httle lamp. The next 
instant he gave a loud cry, let fall the hand 
which carried the letter, and stared wildly at 
Augustus Clickson. 

“ Brown’s gone to Glasgow,” he cried. 

Augustus leapt thoughtfully. He could not 
think of anything else to do and he felt em- 
barrassed under the gaze of incredulous be- 
wilderment with which the Professor regarded 
him. He knew no reason why Brown should 
not have gone to Glasgow, and was therefore 
unable to express the consternation and sympathy 
which the Professor seemed to expect of him. 
John said politely, “ We’re very sorry if you 


THE PROFESSOR TRIES TO COOK 171 


didn’t want him to go to Glasgow, but we’re 
afraid we ought to be ” 

“ Yes,” said Augustus, “ we’re afraid we ought 
to be ” 

But they got no further. The Professor took 
no interest whatever in what they were afraid 
they ought to be. “ Read it,” he cried, and thrust 
the letter upon Augustus Clickson. John and 
Augustus read it together under the httle lamp. 

“ Dear Sir ” (ran the letter of Brown who had 
gone to Glasgow), — “ Finding myself seated 
unexpectedly in a train which appears to be 
leaving immediately for Glasgow, I feel it would 
be unbusinessUke of me not to remain seated in 
it and leave immediately for Glasgow also, to 
take up the excellent situation offered me in that 
city three years ago. I have, I believe, from 
time to time, whenever, in short, it occurred to 
me to do so, informed you of this offer and of 
my imminent departure, but it had recently 
shpped my memory till reminded of it by the 
apparently trustworthy information of a railway 
porter who, though with an appearance of some 
gloom (which I think, however, is not produced by 
any conviction of an impending catastrophe, but 
merely by a naturally melancholy temperament), 


172 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


says that I would seem to have seated myself by 
mistake in a train which is leaving for Glasgow, 
instead of the one on the local railway by which 
I beheved myself to be returning to you from 
the ordering of the foolscap paper which I trust 
the shopkeeper will duly deliver to you. I 
feel sure you will think with me that it would 
be highly unbusinesshke in me to lose an oppor- 
tunity of leaving for Glasgow which may never 
occur again. 

“ I am, dear Sir, 

“ Yours truly, 

“ P. Brown.” 

“ Can you beheve it ! ” cried the Professor, 
“ Brown has gone to Glasgow ! Most strange ! 
Brown has suddenly and irretrievably gone by 
train to Glasgow.” 

“ If he’s been trying to go there for three years 
I don’t call it so sudden,” said Augustus. 

“ Not ? ” cried the Professor, in a high 
voice, pushing up his glasses. “ But what 
am I to do now ? What shall I do without 
Brown ? ” He gazed in the utmost despair 
at John and Augustus. “ What on earth 
shall I do now ? ” he cried. He appeared so 


THE PROFESSOR TRIES TO COOK 173 


certain that they fully understood and shared 
his consternation over the businesshke departure 
of Brown for Glasgow, that they glanced at 
each other in some discomfort, for they did not 
understand it in the least. 

“ We don’t know what you can do,” remarked 
Augustus, leaping. “ I shouldn’t think you can 
do anything at all.” 

“ 'Not ? ” cried the Professor. “ But I am 
so hungry.” 

John and Augustus gazed at him in astonish- 
ment. 

“ Hungry , they repeated. 

“ I have had nothing to eat all day,” said 
the Professor despairingly. “Nothing. Brown 
bought food whenever it occurred to him and 
there was a woman who cooked it for him, and 
they brought it in every now and again, almost 
invariably when I did not want it. But to-day 
nobody has brought in anything. There’s been 
nobody to bring it and nothing to bring.” 

“ Is the woman gone too, then ? ” said John. 

“ She never even came,” said the Professor. 
“ She may be ill or she may also be travelling 
suddenly by train to Glasgow — how can I tell ? 
She has not come to-day, and I have no idea 


174 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


where to look for her. I have been trying to 
cook something myself, but I fear it has in- 
advertently got mixed up with the remains of an 
experiment and I don’t quite recognize the smell.” 

If he meant the smell that had come out of 
the door with him, John and Augustus could 
only feel that they did not recognize it either. 

“ Pray come up and see it,” cried the Professor 
impulsively. “ Pray do. You may perhaps be 
able to recognize what is wrong with it by its 
appearance. It was rapidly changing its appear- 
ance when I left it in the saucepan. I beg you 
will come up and see it.” 

Thoughts of the swiftly passing time and of 
the postponed trial of the Charm were weighing 
heavily upon the minds of John and Augustus. 
They looked at each other uncertainly. But 
the Professor seemed so certain that they could 
not desert him in the terrible dilemma into 
which he had been plunged by the businesslike 
departure of Brown for Glasgow after giving 
notice for three years, that they felt it would 
be cruel to do so. After a moment’s hesitation 
they followed him through a whitewashed lobby, 
and up a short flight of wooden stairs. 

“ On coming up and down these,” said the 


THE PROFESSOR TRIES TO COOK 175 

Professor, mounting nimbly, “I always wear 
a great coat, as you perceive. This place was 
once a stable and it is excessively draughty 
In a great coat one is perfectly safe, however. 
My great coat is one of the few things I never 
omit to put on.” 

This was more than Augustus could bear in 
silence, however. “ You haven’t got on any 
great coat,” he remarked. 

“ Not ? ” cried the Professor in a high voice. 
“ Most strange. What have I got on then ? I 
know I’ve got on something.” Without waiting 
for an answer he pushed open a door at the head 
of the stairs and led the way into a huge labora- 
tory, which looked as though it had been made 
of four barns thrown into one. It was filled 
with every possible kind of scientific appliance 
and apparatus and instrument and flooded with 
brilliant electric light. Long tables ran down 
the sides and the middle and at the bottom great 
furnaces were built into the walls. 

“ Here’s the kitchen,” said the Professor, 
hurrying to another door. “ Come in, come in.” 

John and Augustus entered. Never had they 
seen such chaos. The Professor’s efforts to cook 
had completely wrecked the place. An enormous 


176 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


fire was roaring in the range, and on it was a 
small saucepan emitting a most dreadful smell. 
The Professor rushed towards it. “ Perhaps 
you will know if it is all right by its appearance,” 
he murmured anxiously. He took the cover off 
the saucepan, looked in, and uttereda loud cry. “ It 
has no appearance ! ” he cried. “ It is gone ! ” 

John and Augustus hastened to look. To the 
red hot bottom of the saucepan a small black 
cinder was adhering with a resolution that no 
shake could weaken. “ What was it ? ” asked 
Augustus surprised. 

“ It was a large red piece of meat personally 
recommended to me by a meat shop,” said the 
Professor, sinking in despair upon a chair. “ Why 
has it vanished thus ? ” 

“ I don’t think you ought to cook things in a 
perfectly dry saucepan,” said John doubtfully. 

“ Not ? ” said the Professor. “ But it wasn’t 
perfectly dry. I am almost certain it had the 
remains of an experiment in it and I think that 
must be the reason of the unusual smell.” He 
sat gazing helplessly at the boys. “ What shall 
I do now ? ” he said. “ I am so hungry.” 

Augustus leapt. “ The poor chap’s mad,” 
he remarked in a low voice, but with decision. 


THE PROFESSOR TRIES TO COOK 177 


John observed uncertainly that if you could not 
cook your own food it was often a good plan to 
buy some that had been cooked by other people. 
The Professor almost wept with relief at this 
suggestion. It had never occurred to him before 
that such a thing was possible. He began an 
eager search for money, of which he said he 
remembered having seen quantities about, and 
finally discovered two half-crowns in the soap 
dish in his bedroom, which he immediately 
presented to Augustus Chckson. 

“ What are you giving them to me for ? ” said 
Augustus, surprised. 

“ To buy the ready-made food with,” said the 
Professor, and he sat down to wait for it on a 
chair in the middle of the laboratory, beaming 
with satisfaction and hope. 

“ We’d better see him through now,” said 
Augustus with mingled disgust and resignation. 
“ He’s got no brains, poor chap.” 

So they went out and bought some ready-made 
food at a neighbouring cook-shop, and on their 
return the Professor helped them with enthusiasm 
to sweep science out of the way for nature, and 
cleared a table with such force that he sent flying 
to the ground several arrangements of a most 

M 


178 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


complicated appearance that looked as if they 
had just been about to explain everything that 
there was to explain. His behef that the ready- 
made food had been bought for the three of them, 
and that it was only just in the nick of time to 
save all of them from death by starvation, was 
so evident that Augustus and John fell in with 
it without further protest. They were in truth 
not sorry to do so, for the hour of their own last 
meal was some way behind them, and it was 
already too late to hope to do anything much 
with the Charm that evening. So they ate 
bread, beef, pickles, ham, and jam and cake in the 
midst of the laboratory with the smiling Professor 
in the large top hat, as if that had been the 
immediate and only aim with which they had 
rung the bell in Rider’s Lane an hour before, 
When he had finished, the Professor sat and 
continued to smile upon his companions for quite 
five minutes. Then gradually his expression 
changed. His smile became set and abstracted. 
After a moment he arose, looked round him 
vaguely, and picked up and adjusted a pair of 
spectacles. Then he went to a table which stood 
by itself and was covered with books and papers. 
He sat down to it, stared before him a few seconds, 


THE PROFESSOE TRIES TO COOK 179 

and began to write. Everything had passed from 
his mind. Astonished and distracted, he had 
been brought forcibly down to the earth and 
forcibly detained there by the businesshke 
departure of Brown for Glasgow and the dearth 
of food which had resulted therefrom. Now he 
had had food and it had become completely 
immaterial to him where Brown was. The 
Professor left the earth forthwith in the same 
businesshke manner in which Brown had left 
for Glasgow, and was clearly not prepared to 
return to it that night unless he had to. 

John and Augustus, who were much interested 
by the strange things they saw around them, 
took the opportunity of making a little tour of 
investigation before leaving, and they were deep 
in some highly comphcated structure of steel and 
glass and bellows in a distant corner, of which they 
were vainly endeavouring to guess the use, when 
a starthng roar recalled them to other matters. 

The Professor, still seated at his table with his 
eyes shut and his pen in his hand, had pushed his 
glasses up on his forehead and was shouting en- 
couragingly aloud into space as though Brown were 
a sort of hen, “ Brown, Brown. Come, Brown, come. 
Brown, Brown, Brown, Come, Brown, come,” 


180 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


“ Brown isn’t here, sir,” said John advancing^ 
while Augustus, interested by this further proof 
of the Professor’s entire absence of brains, put 
his hands in his pockets and gazed upon him, 
leaping. The Professor opened his eyes, stared 
at John, and appeared to return slowly from a 
great way off. 

“ Not ? ” he inquired in a high voice. 

“ No, sir,” said John. 

[ “ Where’s Brown ? ” said the Professor. 

“ He’s in Glasgow,” said John. 

“ Glasgow ? ” said the Professor surprised. 
“ Why Glasgow ? Most strange.” His eyes fell 
on his papers. Oblivion slowly returned to them. 
“ Where are my glasses ? I haven’t any glasses,” 
he said, feeling into space vaguely for another 
pair. 

“ You’ve got three pairs tangled up on your 
head,” said Augustus with clearness. 

“ Indeed,” murmured the Professor. “ Most 
strange.” He pulled a pair down over his eyes 
with some difficulty. Then he said pathetically, 
“ I want Brown. I want someone,” and returned 
to his work. 

John and Augustus stood in the midst of the 
great laboratory and looked at each other. The 


THE PROFESSOR TRIES TO COOK 181 

same thought had flashed into the minds of both. 
They retired into a distant corner to consult. 

The chief objections to their sudden idea were 
four in number. First, the Professor appeared so 
deserted that it hardly seemed fair to allow him to 
think he had found someone to take Brown’s place 
when, owing to its being only the third trial of the 
Charm, the chances were that he might mt have 
found someone. Secondly, John thought he 
would rather like to take service with the amiably 
impulsive if brainless Professor, and doubted 
whether he would not do better to keep this 
opportunity for the fourth trial of the Charm, 
when he would be bound to get what he asked for. 
Thirdly, the Professor, while they were making 
the third trial of the Charm elsewhere, might 
be impulsively procuring another boy elsewhere ; 
and fourthly, they did not like to try for the 
place without the Charm, lest for any reason they 
did not get it, when the magic sequence would 
have been broken in vain. The situation was 
so full of complications that John and Augustus 
became greatly muddled while endeavouring to 
consider it, and they finally decided to give up 
considering it altogether and merely to try for 
the place with the Charm, always remembering 


iN THE CITY OE UNDER 


i82 

that they were not bound to accept its guidance if 
it did not lead them whither they wished to go 
when once they were sure where they did wish 
to go. 

So John fetched it from the corner where he 
had placed if for safety, and they returned to the 
middle of the laboratory, and Augustus touched 
the Professor’s arm, while John stood well in 
front of him. 

“ Eh, what, which ? ” said the Professor, 
lifting his head and looking at them without 
seeing them at all. 

“ Would I do as boy, do you think, sir ? ” 
said John, and he clasped the Charm in his left 
hand and swept the air with his right from his 
forehead to the ground. The Professor once more 
slowly returned from a great way off and gazed at 
John with interest and surprise. Then appar- 
ently coming to the conclusion that he had been 
made the recipient of some politeness which, 
though slightly incomprehensible, it behoved 
him to return, he bowed to John so deeply that 
the three pairs of spectacles and the top hat and 
the rubber mask all fell ofi together among the 
papers on the table. 

“ How did that get there ? ” said the Professor 


THE PROFESSOR TRIES TO COOK 183 

when he was erect again, gazing with surprise 
at the top hat. “ Most strange.” 

This tickled Augustus, but with an effort he re- 
strained his mirth, and ho and John looked expect- 
antly at the Professor and the Professor looked 
expectantly at them. Perceiving this Augustus 
pityingly took command of the situation. 

“ Will he do, do you think ? ” he said. 

“Will who do what?” said theProfessoramiably. 

“ Will John Hazard do to come here as boy 
instead of Brown ? ” said Augustus. 

“ Where’s Brown ? ” said the Professor, sur- 
prised. 

“ He’s gone to Glasgow , said Augustus loudly. 
He felt strongly incUned to boom, but compassion 
restrained his exasperation. 

“ Oh, so he has,” said the Professor. “ Yes, 
Brown has suddenly and irretrievably gone by 
train to Glasgow. Most strange. And will this 
one do instead of Brown ? Is that it. Cer- 
tinly. Certainly. An excellent idea ! I must 
have someone now Brown has gone by train to 
Glasgow. Certainly, Certainly.” He beamed 
with pleasure at the clear understanding at which 
he felt certain he had now arrived. 

John and Augustus looked at each other, and 


184 


IN THE CITY OF UNDEE 


Augustus leapt. They did not quite know how 
they felt. They had got the situation, and the 
Charm was not working. The Professor glanced 
at his papers, and instantly recommenced sinking 
into obhvion, but Augustus, perceiving the 
process, arrested it in time. 

“ Wouldn’t you like to ask him some 
questions ? ” he said. 

“ What about ? ” said the Professor, returning 
to himself with surprise. 

“ About what he can do and things hke that,” 
said Augustus. 

“ Certainly, certainly, what can he do ? ” said 
the Professor. 

‘‘ He can run messages and clean up and help 
cook and do errands and dust and carry things, 
can’t you. Hazard ? ” said Augustus. “ What 
else can you do. Hazard ? ” 

“That’s about all, I think,” said John modestly, 
“ except for cleaning boots and knives.” 

“ Very nice, very nice, indeed,” said the 
Professor, “I don’t think I remember Brown 
doing all that. Very kind, indeed.” 

“ And you’d better have his address in case 
you want to write to his mother at any time,” 
said Augustus, and he took a pen and a piece of 


THE PROFESSOR TRIES TO COOK 185 

paper and wrote it down in a businesslike man- 
ner. 

“ Certainly, certainly, let us frequently write 
to his mother,” said the Professor. “ And 
meanwhile he can continue to correct the proofs 
of the second part of my treatise on the Differen- 
tial Analysis of Solar Radiation where Brown 
left off. Perhaps he wouldn’t mind bringing 
me those last sheets from Brown’s table over 
there. I think Brown had looked through the 
mathematics of those sheets.” 

To say that John and Augustus received a 
shock from this speech is to put it lightly. They 
stood staring at each other in dismay, and the 
Professor instantly took advantage of the pause 
in the proceedings to recommence sinking into 
oblivion. But before he had gone very deep in, 
John said in an uncertain voice, “Did Brown do 
mathematics, sir ? ” 

“ You really could hardly say so,” said the Pro- 
fessor suddenly returning to full consciousness 
at so saddening a recollection. “ For a mathe- 
matical assistant they were most elementary, 
most elementary, alas ! Still, he was of some use 
to me, and I must have someone to spare me 
initial and unnecessary labour.” 


186 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


“ But you canH have had a mathematical 
assistant only as old as Hazard,” cried Augustus 
Chckson loudly. 

“ Not ? ” said the Professor surprised. “ Why 
not ? Where’s Hazard ? Who’s Hazard ? How 
old is Hazard ? ” 

John, in a melancholy voice, went to the root 
of the matter. 

“ The question really is,” he said, “ how old 
was Brown ? ” 

“Yes, Brown, Brown, Brown, how old was 
Brown, the question really is, how old was 
Brown ? ” said the Professor rapidly. 

“ How old did he look ? ” said John. 

“ Oh, how old did he look ? ” said the Professor, 
pondering. “ Yes, the question now really is, 
how old did he look ? ” 

“ You called him a boy, you see,” said John. 

“ Oh, I called him a boy,” said the Professor. 
“Yes, I called him a boy, you know, because he 
was a boy. They once spilt him out of something 
somewhere, I believe, and he never grew again. 
He can’t really have grown much even before they 
spilt him out of something somewhere, for he 
scarcely come to my waist, poor boy. A boy, a 
mere boy.” 


gr THE PROFESSOE TRIES TO COOK 187 

John and Augustus looked at each other 
gloomily. The truth was out. They had not 
got the third situation they had tried for, and 
the Charm was working. 

“ I’m afraid I won’t do for your situation, 
sir,” said John in depressed resignation, I 
know hardly any mathematics.” 

Not?'' cried the Professor, putting on a pair of 
spectacles and gazing at John in anxious surprise. 

“ No, sir,” said John. 

“ Dear me,” said the Professor, “ no mathe- 
matics. Most strange. Dear me, dear me.” 

He continued to gaze at J ohn with the greatest sur- 
prise and commiseration, and John and Augustus 
gazed back at him. Then, as there seemed nothing 
else to say, John and Augustus said good-bye. 

“ Oh, good-bye, good-bye, good-bye,” said the 
Professor. He sat and watched them go, still 
murmuring to himself in reflective perturbation, 
“ No mathematics, dear me ! Most strange,” 
and when they had reached the bottom of the 
stairs, they heard him running rapidly above, 
and his head, once more in the large top hat, 
appeared over the balustrade. 

“ No mathematics ? ” cried the Professor im- 
pulsively. 


188 


IN THE CITY OF XJNDEB 


“ No, sir,” said John. 

said the Professor in a high voice. 

“ Dear me, dear me. And you have both been 
so kind, and your manners are so polite, and 
your knowledge of cooking so profound. Dear 
me.” John and Augustus walked down the 
mews in some gloom. When they reached the 
end, John remarked : “ Well, we’ve got the third 
trial done, anyway.” 

This fact had temporarily escaped Augustus 
Chckson. He revived at the thought, put his 
hands in his pockets, and leapt. “ So we have,” 
he said. 

“ And there’s the fourth time still to try,” said 
John. 

“ So there is,” said Augustus, “ And that poor 
chap had no brains anyhow.” 

It was much too late to try the Charm for the 
fourth time that night, however. The cliff 
shadow had long fallen over the streets of Under, 
and the shops were all shut. So John and 
Augustus arranged to meet at half past one the 
next day, it being a Saturday ; and Augustus then 
sought the road to Wickle Hill, and John re- 
turned to Down Street — so late that Mother 
Letitlie’s doorway was empty when he went by. 


CHAPTER XI 

The Little Man Aerives 

When John passed Mother Letitlie’s doorstep on 
his way back from school next day, however, he 
found her on it, and looking forth from it, in a 
state of great irritation. 

“ What Down Street’s coming to, I don’t 
know,” she said. “As if the world wasn’t 
black enough already. There’ll soon be no place 
left where a person can set quiet and bear 
with their misfortunes and leave things be as 
best they can. It’s a nice thing when a person 
gets waked up by being shot off their chairs in 
the middle of their first snooze by a madman 
stroodhng in and out.” 

“ Has there been a madman stroodling in and 
out ? ” said John, surprised. 

“ Should I say there had been if there hadn’t ? ” 
said old Mother Letitlie. “ Falling over a per- 
son on their own doorstep and asking if it was 
No 179, when he could see for himself it wasn’t. 


190 


IN THE CITY OF UNDEK 


Why can’t people set in their homes and bear 
with their misfortunes as best they may and 
leave other people to set in their homes and bear 
with theirs.” 

John went on to his own home, and found his 
mother also on her doorstep, looking out for 
him in some anxiety. 

“ Such a strange thing has happened, John 
darhng,” she said. I fear poor James has 
gone away with a madman.” 

“ Gone away with him,” said John, surprised. 

“ Well, I’m afraid so,” said his mother. “ I 
don’t know what else to think. This morning 
as I was standing here waiting for the girl to 
come back from the baker’s, I saw a crowd of 
little boys coming up the street. Of course it 
was very impohte of the little boys to crowd 
him, but really you could hardly wonder at it, 
for he had four pairs of spectacles on his forehead, 
and he wore a top hat, and an old apron, and a 
boot on one foot and a red carpet shpper on the 
other.” 

“ Who did ? ” said John with a shock of 
apprehension. 

“ The madman James has gone away with,” 
said his mother. “ He was carrying a piece of 


THE LITTLE MAN ARRIVES 191 

paper, and he stopped at every door and peered; 
first at his piece of paper and then at the door ; 
and when he got to this door he peered at his 
piece of paper and said: ‘No. 179. Kindly 
inform him, madam, that I should wish him to 
come as cook.’ ” 

John could only gaze at his mother in silence. 
The possibility of such a complication had never 
entered his most precautionary imaginings. 

“ Wasn’t it extraordinary, my dear John ! ” 
said his mother. “ I said to him, ‘ I am afraid 
I don’t quite understand what you say,’ and he 
said to me, ‘ I will enter and explain to him 
that I wish him to come as cook. The woman 
has never returned and a knowledge of mathe- 
matics is not essential in a cook,’ which, of course, 
made me understand him less than ever.” 

“ And did he enter ? ” said John, apprehen- 
sively. 

“ Yes, he did,” said his mother. “ He took 
off his top hat and walked straight in, and I was 
so much bewildered I did not know whether to 
stop him or not. He walked into the dining-room, 
and when he saw James working at the table, 
he said, ‘ This is not the right httle boy. Where 
is the right little boy? I desire to inform the 


192 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


right Kttle boy that I wish him to come as cook. 
His manners are so polite and his knowledge of 
cooking so profound that I wish him to come as 
cook.’ What in the world can he have meant, 
my dear John ? ” said his mother, gazing at him 
in bewilderment. “ He can’t really have wanted 
a little boy to go to him as cook ! And what 
little boy ? ” 

John was so nervous lest he should make a 
truthful remark and convey an impression to 
his mother that he knew what she was talking 
about, and so nervous lest he should make an 
untruthful remark and convey to his mother the 
impression that he did not, that he made no 
remark at all. He stood on one leg and gazed 
at her. 

“ And you know what poor James is ! ” 
continued his mother with a sigh. “ He left off 
working, and looked at the madman for a long 
time without seeing that he was there, and then 
he said, ‘ Can’t this person go elsewhere, mother ? 
I’m working.’ And the madman began to look 
dreamily at James’ books and papers as though 
he were gradually going madder and madder, 
and said, ‘ Working ? Dear me ! Most strange. 
What are you working at ? ’ and took up some 


THE LITTLE MAN ARRIVES 193 


of James’ papers. And the next moment he 
cried at the top of his voice, ‘ Dear me ! Most 
strange ! This is my treatise on the something 
or other of a solar something or other,’ and after 
that they went away together.” 

“ At once ? ” said John, surprised at this 
sudden transition between the Professor’s dis- 
covery of his treatise and his instant departure 
with James. 

“ Well, 'practically at once,” said his mother. 
“ The madman waved his arms in the air and 
talked at the top of his voice for about ten 
minutes and then James gathered up his papers 
and got his cap without saying a word — ^you 
know poor James ! — ^and they and all the little 
boys went away together practically at once, 
I haven’t the least idea where. I did ask the 
madman several questions, such as who was he, 
and would he sit down, but he never told me 
who he was and he never did sit down. And I 
can’t help being a little anxious about poor 
James, John darling, because the extraordinary 
thing is that he took a loaf.” 

“ Who did ? ” said John. 

“ The madman James has gone away with,” 
said his mother. “ By the time they got out 

N 


194 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


into the passage, the girl had come back, and the 
loaf for dinner was on the table there, and he took 
it the minute he saw it without asking anyone if 
he might, and began breaking bits off and eating 
them while he talked. And he went away still 
talking and eating the loaf, so there’s no bread 
for dinner and where in the world can they have 
gone to ? ” 

John endeavoured cautiously to re -assure his 
mother without giving himself away. 

“ I don’t think he’ll hurt James,” he said. “ I 
believe he’s only a Professor.” 

“ A Professor , said his mother. “ Where 
have you heard of him ? And why in the world 
should a Professor come here for a cook, and 
take away a loaf ? ” 

At that moment a loud shriek burst from the 
interior of the house, followed by a crashing noise. 

“ Oh, my goodness gracious, the girl ! ” ejacu- 
lated his mother, and she fled inside. 

John seized both the opportunity of escaping 
and some dinner to eat on his road ; and when 
he met Augustus later on, he told him in some 
perturbation what had occurred. 

“ It’s only a mercy the Professor didn’t give 
the whole thing away,” he said. 


THE LITTLE MAN ARRIVES 195 

“ Well, lie didn’t, so it doesn’t matter,” said 
Augustus Clickson. “ Come on, we’re wasting 
time.” 

So they went on towards the North Quarter 
for the fourth trial of the Charm ; and as they 
turned into the little street by the railways, 
they saw a tall woman with a hooked nose 
stealing up it. She was creeping along under 
the walls of the warehouses as though she 
fancied it was safer there than in the roadway. 
The moment she saw John and Augustus, she 
rushed up to them, seized John by the arm and 
said in a whisper, “ Do you know the Hawker — 
the Hawker who sells staves and Charms ? ” 

“ Yes,” said John. 

“ Then tell him,” whispered the woman, 

“ that there will be two on the waste lands 
under the cliff at dusk to-night who must escape 
out of Under at once for ever. Alas, alas, the 
venturesome little Papa ! ” And she was gone, 
stealing away imder the warehouse walls. 

John and Augustus, when they had recovered 
from their surprise, decided that it would be 
better to turn aside into the market as they 
went past it and deliver the message, in case 
the safety of somebody from something really 


196 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


did depend on it, though the waste lands did 
not seem a very good place for anybody to 
choose to escape from. For those who could not 
climb the waterfall there appeared to be no way 
off them at all, except back again through Under. 

But just before they turned the corner of the 
street that led down to the market-place, they 
heard the Hawker’s cry, “ Staves to sell, staves 
to sell ; ” and round the corner came the Hawker 
himself. When he saw John and Augustus he 
stopped. 

“ We were just coming to find you for a minute 
on our way to the North Quarter, Hawker,” said 
John. “ We met a woman a few moments ago, 
the same woman whom I once saw looking for 
you in Down Street, and she told us to tell you 
that there will be two people under the cliff on 
the waste lands at dusk to-night who must escape 
out of Under at once for ever.” 

The Hawker let his load of staves down into 
the doorway that belonged to the house which 
ended the line of warehouses, and stretched his 
arms. 

“ More than two people will do that to-night,” 
said he. 

At that instant there came the sound of running 


THE LITTLE MAN ARRIVES 197 

feet, and a slim little man carrying a brown bag 
flew round the corner and hurled himself into 
the Hawker. 

“ They’re after me again,” he gasped. “ If 
I let them get me, they’ll find out who I am, 
and my secret will be lost. Save me, save 
me ! ” 

“ Get behind me,” said the Hawker, and the 
slim little man dived into the doorway behind 
the staves and the Hawker. He had scarcely 
disappeared before there came again the sound 
of running feet, and a policeman rushed round 
the corner. He came to a dead stop and looked 
this way and that. The little street lay empty 
of any figure save those of John and Augustus 
and the Hawker. 

“ Must have gone down the other turning,” 
said the policeman, and he wheeled about, and 
rushed round the corner again. 

“ Thank you very much, indeed,” said the 
little man, emerging from behind the staves 
and wiping his face. “ This is just the dreadful 
kind of thing that keeps happening to me, and 
sometimes I believe I’m in a nightmare. How 
shall I ever get safely back to my boat ! There’s 
a mile of lonely little streets between this and the 


198 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


North Quarter, and if this kind of thing happens 
there I shall be done for. If only I were of a 
rather larger size ! ” 

“ Two or three of your size would be all right,” 
said the Hawker. 

“ You are quite right, my good fellow,” said 
the little man, smiling mildly. “ That’s an ex- 
cellent notion. You yourself are as tall and 
as strong as three of me. I will give you a 
sovereign if you’ll come with me to the North 
Quarter.” 

“ I’m afraid I can’t,” said the Hawker, pulling 
his staves up on to his shoulders. “ I have my 
trade to look after. But these two are going 
to the North Quarter. Perhaps they will go 
with you,” and he went away down the street 
calling, “ Staves to sell, staves to sell.” 

“ You can come with us if you like,” said 
Augustus. 

“ Thank you very much, indeed,” said the 
little man, doubtfully ; “ but are you not rather 
young ? ” 

“ I may be young, but I’m as tall as you and 
a jolly sight stronger, and so I tell you,” said 
Augustus with indignation. “ However, if you 
don’t want to come with us, don’t. We don’t care.” 


THE LITTLE MAN ARRIVES 199 


“ I didn’t mean tliat,” said the little man 
hastily. “ I only meant that the most extra- 
ordinary things seem to keep happening to me, 
and I don’t know whether I ought to let you run 
the risk of them happening to you too.” 

“ Let ’em happen,” said Augustus. “ Hazard 
and I can take care of ourselves.” 

“ I shall be very grateful, indeed, if I may 
come with you,” said the little man. 

“ Come on, then,” said Augustus. 

So John and Augustus and the slim httle man 
started for the North Quarter together. They 
avoided the street down which the policeman 
had rushed, and gave the market a wide berth 
instead of passing along it, and so got into the 
warren of little lanes and byways that lay 
between the market and the river. They 
travelled safely through several of these, and the 
little man became reassured and mildly cheerful. 

“ I expect they hardly like to attack three 
together, whoever they may be,” he said. “ It 
was an excellent notion, your coming with me. 
They ” 

At that moment two men carrying ropes 
suddenly and silently fell out of a doorway in 
a narrow lane through which they happened 


200 IN THE CITY OF UNDER 

at the moment to be passing, and bore him to 
earth. 

The little man uttered a short, sharp yell as 
he fell. “ I told you so,” he cried. “ Save me, 

save me ” but more was not audible, for 

he had disappeared under the two men. There, 
being unarmed and much the smallest of the 
three, he might have remained indefinitely, if 
not for ever, had not Augustus, on recovering 
from the petrification into which the suddenness 
of the occurrence had momentarily plunged him, 
fallen upon the group from above with a roar 
that echoed in the heavens. 

A fight always roused Augustus to the utmost 
pitch of indignation, and the fury with which 
he invariably hurled himself into it, whether it 
was his fight or anybody else’s, generally came 
as a great surprise to those who encountered 
him. As a result of his onslaught, the un- 
hindered trussing up with ropes of the slim little 
man suddenly turned into a four-handed 
imder far more sporting conditions; around 
which John, having recovered his scattered wits, 
ran in great anxiety, hitting at anything that 
came uppermost that he was certain he had 
never seen before, Several dogs arrived from 


THE LITTLE MAN ARRIVES 201 

nowhere and ran round with him, barking loudly, 
and the door of No. 8, which happened to be 
the one nearest the scene of action, slowly opened 
after a few moments to allow of the appearance 
of a stout man, who, remarking with a pleased air 
to nobody in particular that he thought he’d heard 
a little somethink somewhere, leant against the 
doorpost, smoking, and benevolently contemplat- 
ing the strugghng heap on the ground. Otherwise 
no one in Poop Lane took any notice of the 
noise that was going on in their neighbourhood. 
There was no one passing up and down. All 
the people who were at work were at work, 
and all the people who were not at work were, 
as was their wont on Saturday afternoons, 
asleep. 

It was John who brought the fight to a sudden 
and unexpected conclusion. He saw momen- 
tarily close together in the revolving whirl of 
arms and legs and heads on the ground two 
noses that were entirely strange to him, and he 
let drive at them both, one after the other, with 
all his strength. Perhaps the unexpected descent 
of the infuriated Augustus, or the courageous 
defence which the little man put up for himself 
as soon as he found himself partially restored to 


202 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


light and air, had already surprised and shaken 
the nerve of an enemy more versed in destruction 
than warfare. Anyway, that ended it. With a 
yell the owners of the noses disentangled them- 
selves, scrambled to their feet, and before any- 
one could realize what was happening they had 
fled with streaming faces down the street and 
were gone, taking their ropes with them. Where- 
upon Augustus and the little man also scrambled 
to their feet, in a state of dust and dishevelment 
in which their own mothers, even if they had 
known them, would have preferred not to. 

“ Well, that’s over,” said the stout man in 
the doorway, with a satisfied smile, and he turned 
to re-enter his dwelling. 

“ I will give you a shilhng if you will let us 
come in and have a wash and brush-up,” said 
the little man, panting. 

The stout man, after remaining for a moment 
motionless in a thoughtful effort to reahze that 
he was being addressed and that something was 
required of him, said he supposed there wasn’t 
no reel ’arm in it, and led them in. 

“ My name is Mr. George Chart, and these 
are my two nephews, and that was a slight 
political difference we were settling just now 


THE LITTLE MAN ARRIVES 203 


in your street,” said the little man, as lie paid 
the stout man his shilling. The information did 
not interest the stout man nearly so much as 
the shilling. It was the same to him who 
anybody was. 

“ I had to say that so as to throw him off the 
scent,” said the httle man, with a sigh, as they 
walked away. “ I have to make a point of 
throwing people off the scent everywhere, but 
the worst of it is they never seem to be thrown. 
Who they think I am I don’t know, but if they 
caught me they’d soon find out who I really 
am, and my secret would be betrayed. Some- 
times,” added the httle man, with a sigh, “ with 
all these dreadful things that keep happening 
to me, I almost think I’m in a nightmare.” 

John and Augustus, however, had never before 
found themselves in the company of a person 
who apparently could not go for an ordinary 
walk without being chased by pohce and fallen 
upon by assassins ; and they were naturally 
surprised. 

“ Why do they keep happening to you ? ” 
said Augustus, leaping. 

“ I have no idea,” said the little man. 

“ But you must have ! ” said Augustus_^ loudly. 


204 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


“ I haven’t, I do assure you,” said the little 
man, despairingly. 

“ Then tell the police about it and have them 
stopped happening,” said Augustus with decision. 

“ No, no, I can’t do that,” said the little man 
hastily. “ I can’t tell the police anything. My 
secret would instantly be out. I couldn’t tell 
the pohce a single thing without their instantly 
discovering everything I don’t want anyone to 
know. No, if these dreadful things are to con- 
tinue happening to me, they must simply con- 
tinue happening.” 

Nothing more did happen to anybody, how- 
ever, during the short journey that still remained 
to the river. They found the httle wharf at 
which the little man had left his boat. She was 
little too — a yellow dinghy, as broad as she was 
long, and more like a button than a boat. The 
little man pulled her up to the steps and shook 
hands warmly with John and Augustus and 
thanked them very much for having saved him 
from the assassins. 

He then endeavoured to step into the dinghy, 
but owing to the fact that he stepped on to her 
side instead of into her middle, she shot away 
with a violent tilt, and the little man shot away 


THE LITTLE ]V1AN ARRIVES 205 

also, face downwards among the oars and seats. 
Recovering himself, he sought to row back to 
the wall, but as he sat with his face to the 
direction to which he wished to row, the dinghy- 
remained where she was, though the strain of 
the current and the tide, which was now setting 
strongly seawards, made her rope creak loudly. 

“ Why does she not move ? ” said the httle 
man, pausing in surprise. 

“ Move where ? ” said Augustus from the river 
wall, whence he and John had surveyed the httle 
man’s manoeuvres with astonishment. 

“ Back to the wall, of com*se,” said the little 
man, recommencing to row harder than ever. 

“ She doesn’t move back to the wall because 
you’re rowing her away from it,” said Augustus, 
and he seized the rope, loosed it from the wall, 
and hauled the dinghy in with such vigour that 
the little man went over the seat and arrived 
at the quay on his back. 

“ Boats are such curious things,” he said, 
picking himself up with a sigh. “ Wilham, the 
son of my landlord in the Inn, rowed me up. 

I have to be a great deal oh the river, of course 
— some of the oldest parts of the city are built 
on the river — and Wilham rows and sails me 


206 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


about a great deal. But he said he had business 
in the town and could not row me back, so I 
shall have to hire a waterman.” 

He shouted for a waterman, but no one 
answered, and John and Augustus, looking round, 
observed that the little quay was absolutely 
deserted. No old salts lounged upon it, no 
children played on its edge ; not so much as a 
head looked out of the closed doors of the 
dilapidated httle houses by which it was sur- 
rounded. 

“ Where has everybody gone to ? ” shouted the 
little man, puzzled. “ The place was full of 
people this morning.” He shouted again. John 
and Augustus shouted too, but not the faintest 
sign of life emerged from anywhere in response 
to their cries. The little man looked up at 
them anxiously. “ What shall I do now ? ” he 
said. “ I suppose you couldn’t row me back ? 
I should be so much obliged if you could.” 

John and Augustus looked down at him. 
Augustus still held the painter of the dinghy, 
and she rubbed her round nose gently against 
the river -wall as though she were thinking of 
the running tide beneath her, and of the easy 
journey a dinghy might have bobbing out to sea. 


THE LITTLE MAN ARRIVES 207 


“ I can row a bit,” said Augustus. “ My father 
takes me out with him rowing and sailing when- 
ever he gets a day off. But I don’t see how we 
can come with you. We’ve wasted an awful lot 
of time already, and we’ve got a lot to do.” 

“ Yes, I’m afraid we ” said John. 

“ Jump ! ” cried the little man, giving a jump 
himself as his eyes suddenly travelled past them ; 
and such was the urgency of his shout that John 
and Augustus did jump, first with the start it 
gave them and then, without so much as a glance 
behind them, straight into the boat. 

“ Off, go, get,” cried the little man inco- 
herently, plunging madly about. “ Away, or 
all is lost. They’ll find out who I am in an 
instant if once they get me. Away, away ! ” 

Augustus shoved the dinghy out with a 
vigorous push, and, the current catching her, 
she swung out into the river. 

I told you so,” cried the little man, “ I ” 

but the swing of the dinghy caught him in the 
middle of his remark, and the rest of it was lost 
under a seat. 

Augustus ran the oars out, and steadied the 
rocking little boat in the current, and he and 
John looked back. Another policeman stood 


208 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


on the edge of the quay. He seemed to have 
arrived there faster than it was his habit to 
arrive at places, and he was consequently too 
breathless to do anything but reckon. But the 
sight of him appeared to rouse the little man 
to a perfect frenzy of indignation and agita- 
tion. 

“ Go away, go away,” he cried, scrambling up 
excitedly. “ I know what you’ll do if you get 
me. You’ll tell me I’m Harry Field just as the 
other policeman did, and that I’m wanted for 
complicity in a jewel robbery, and then you’ll 
try to march me of! to the pohce courts just as 
he tried to do, and find out instantly who I am. 
I’m not coming near you, whatever you say. Go 
away, go away.” 

The policeman on the quay turned purple 
with surprise at this anticipation of his purpose, 
and with rage at its being defied. 

“ You come in this instant,” he roared. “ I 
know ’oo you are well enough. You’re ’Arry 
Field, and nobody else. I’ve got your descrip- 
tion ’ere in my pocket, and I see you up near 
the market, and lost you in the streets coming 
down. There’s not two of you knockin’ about, 
you hunder-sized, hover-dressed, sandy-’aired 


THE LITTLE MAN AEEIVES 209 


little whipper-snapper you. You come in this 
instant, or you’ll be sorry.” 

“ I’m not coming in,” cried the little man. 
“ I never stole a sixpence in my life, and I’m not 
Harry Field, I tell you. Someone is laying false 
information against me. You may dance on the 
edge of that wall till you’re blue. I’m not 
coming in.” 

The policeman, as there dawned upon him 
more fully the difficulty of persuading a man, 
six feet of deep water away, to behave as Harry 
Field when he says that he is someone else, 
became perfectly inarticulate with rage. 

“ Kow away, row away,” cried the little man 
to Augustus. 

Augustus, in blank amazement, began to row 
away, but when the policeman saw the boat 
moving he found his voice again in a roar of 
fury. 

“ If you don’t come in this instant,” he 
shouted, “ I’ll raise the whole river-side against 
you. I’ll make you sorry you didn’t come in 
quiet when you ’ad the chance. I swear I 
will.” 

He turned about and roared for a waterman, 
evidently with a view of getting a boat and 

0 


210 


IN THE CITY OE UNDER 


pursuing the little man by water. Not a 
window opened, not a voice answered. The 
little quay remained as silent as the grave. But 
his shouts seemed to fill the little man with 
anxiety. 

“ Row back, row back,” he said to Augustus 
despairingly. “ He must be stopped. He’ll 
attract the attention of every one in Under.” 

Augustus put the dinghy back into the slack 
water, nearer the wall, but still out of reach, 
and the little man stood up, and addressed the 
pohceman. 

“ Look here, constable,” he said, “ if I can 
bring a witness to prove to you that I am not 
Harry Field, will you let me go ? ” 

“You are ’Arry Field,” cried the police- 
man. 

“ I’m not, I tell you,” cried the little man, 
despairingly. 

“ If you’re so sure you can prove you aren’t 
’Arry Field, you come in quiet and prove it in 
the courts,” said the policeman. 

“ I can’t prove it in the courts without proving 
other things that I don’t want to prove and that 
I’m not going to prove and that I won’t prove,” 
said the little man excitedly. “ What in the 


THE LITTLE MAN ARRIVES 211 


world is the meaning of all this ? Who can it be 
that has set the pohce after me ? ” 

“ The man as set the pohce onter you is the 
man you ’elped steal the jewels,” said the pohce- 
man. “We got proof enough together at last 
to arrest ’im on it, and we took ’im yesterday, 
an’ ’e told us about you all right. I dessay ’e’d 
like to see you took too. An’ took you’ll be, my 
man, sooner or later. You come in this instant 
an’ go with me quiet.” 

“ I don’t know anything about any jewels,” 
cried the httle man, wildly. “ I don’t know 
what you’re talking about. I never stole six- 
pence in my life. This is just the dreadful kind 
of thing that keeps happening to me, and some- 
times I think I’m in a nightmare. But I’m not 
coming in. You go up that lane and take the 
first to the right and the first to the left and 
then ask for Poop Lane, and in No. 8 Poop Lane 
you will find a man who will come with you for 
a small honorarium, say twopence, and tell you 
if I’m Harry Field or not.” 

“ Yes, an’ while I’m gone you’ll go too,” cried 
the policeman. 

“ I am going anyhow,” cried the little man with 
dignity, “ and if you refuse to take a good offer 


212 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


while it’s open to you, I will go at once, and you 
can do your worst.” 

The policeman turned about again, and again 
roared for a waterman, but again he roared in 
vain ; and at last he apparently came with fury 
to the conclusion that he had better take the 
httle man’s ofier since, good or not, it was the 
only one there was. He suddenly ceased roaring, 
and, without deigning to glance again at the boat, 
strode away across the quay and up the lane. 

“ I fear you will have to come down the river 
with me now,” said the little man, sinking back 
exhausted into the boat. “ You cannot desert 
me now, you really cannot. If I went ashore 
now to try and get somebody else, he’d arrest me 
for being Harry Field if fifty people swore I 
wasn’t, and I should find myself in the police- 
court and obliged to reveal all.” 

John and Augustus, lost in amazement, had 
hitherto sat, borne, as it were, on the stream of 
events, stupefied and astounded ; but at this 
juncture Augustus partially recovered. 

“ Look here,” he said, “ it’s all very well to 
say you don’t want to reveal anything, and of 
course Hazard and I don’t want to be impolite, 
but the question is, are you a murderer or 


THE LITTLE MAN AHRIVES 213 

aren’t you ? That’s the real question, and so I 
tell you. Isn’t it, Hazard ? ” 

“ Well, perhaps not a murderer exactly,” said 
John, soothingly, at the sight of the little man’s 
astounded face and fallen jaw. “ But perhaps 
a thief or something of that sort.” 

“ Of course. Hazard and I don’t mind what 
you are,” said Augustus, magnanimously. 
“ Every one knows that anyone can fall under 
sudden temptation and all that, and Hazard and 
I might be murderers ourselves some day if we 
found we couldn’t help it. But what we feel is 
that if you are a murderer or anything of that 
kind, we’d rather get out of the boat.” 

“ We feel our mothers would rather we did,” 
explained John encouragingly. 

“ I don’t know that I mind so much about 
my mother,” said Augustus. “ I’d rather get 
out as much on my own account as anybody’s.” 

“ A murderer ! ” gasped the little man. “ But 
my dear lads — good heavens — no, a thousand 
times no. I have done nothing wrong, nothing. 
I am absolutely innocent of any crime. I am as 
ignorant as yourselves of the reason of the 
dreadful events that seem to keep happening 
to me.” 


214 


IN THE CITY OF UNDEE 


“ Will you swear you are ? ” said Augustus 
Clickson. 

“ I swear it,” cried the little man eagerly. 
“ I will swear it a thousand times over.” 

“ Well, it’s a jolly rum go, then,” said 
Augustus. 

“ One thing I will at least tell you,” said the 
httle man with agitation ; “I will tell it you, 
come what may, though it greatly imperils my 
secret, for it explains everything. I am here, 
I am going through these bewildering and 
dreadful occurrences, I am dwelling in what 
appears to me to be a nightmare, for one reason, 
and one reason only. In me you behold an 
antiquarian.” 

Why a person should be fleeing down a river 
for his hfe from pohcemen and assassins under 
an assumed name merely because he was an 
antiquarian, however, John and Augustus could 
not see. It seemed to them to explain nothing. 
But at that moment the tramp of the pohceman 
was heard returning, and with his tramp came 
the sound of another. The pohceman was 
bringing the inhabitant of No. 8, Poop Lane 
with him. Whether the inhabitant had been 
given tuppence to allow himself to be brought 


THE LITTLE MAN ARRIVES 215 


did not transpire, but judging from his appear- 
ance he had not. He came in a dogged manner, 
and in his shirt-sleeves, as one who had been 
brought forcibly and without explanation, and 
he had the aspect of having been roused from 
deep slumber by violence. 

“ Now then,"^ said the policeman, steering him 
with determination to the edge of the quay, 
“ ^oo"s that "ere ? You tell the truth, or you’ll 
be sorry.” 

The stout inhabitant of No. 8, Poop Lane 
gazed earnestly at the boat and its occupants. 
After prolonged meditation, he spoke with con- 
viction. That there’s Mr. George Chart and 
them’s ’is nephews.” 

“ There ! ” said the httle man. 

The policeman stood in sullen silence. 

Augustus and John looked at each other, 
and Augustus drew a long breath, and ran his 
oars out. 

‘‘ All right,” he said. We’ll take you down 
the river since you swear it isn’t because there’s 
anything wrong, that you can’t say who you 
are or explain anything. But it’s rather a 
nuisance, and so I tell you, because Hazard and 
I have a great deal to do.” 


216 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


“I am so gratefuTto you — so very grateful 
to you/' cried the little man eagerly. 

“ It won't really take us so very long, Clickson," 
said John pohtely. 

The dinghy went bobbing out on to the river 
into the sun and the wind of the summer after- 
noon, with Augustus rowing, and the little man 
steering, as far as anybody can be said to steer 
who does not know how. John, the Charm at 
his feet, sat in the bows. And as the dinghy 
reached the middle of the river, all the doors 
and windows of the httle houses round the 
httle quay opened, and their inhabitants came 
out and went about their business, and the 
loungers and the children reappeared and 
reoccupied their customary haunts. 


CHAPTER XII 
The Theft op the Sloop 

The dinghy rocked away down the centre of 
the river towards the bend of the wide curve 
upon which the city was built. There were a 
few small boats plying about on the water, and 
one of these, which had been lying in the middle 
of the current some httle way down with two 
men fishing from her, pulled up her anchor as 
the dinghy came up and went by, and began 
to move slowly in the same direction. Otherwise 
there were no craft about, and the flat shores 
on either hand were covered with sordid httle 
houses, for they were still among the outskirts 
of the city. The httle man sat plunged in 
thought, absently pulhng first one hne and then 
the other as Augustus directed him. 

I think I must be the victim of some extra- 
ordinary plot,’" he said at last, rousing himself 
with a sigh. “ Do you know, my dear lads, 
why there was no waterman on that quay this 
afternoon ? I beheve it was because the people 

217 


218 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


belonging to it had all been bribed to keep 
away so that I shouldn't be able to find anybody 
to help me get away myself." 

John and Augustus received this theory with 
surprise, but the httle man remained unshaken 
in his conviction. 

“ That pohceman would have caught me hke 
a rat in a trap if it had not been for you," said he. 

“ Well, if they hadn't been bribed to keep 
away," said Augustus Chckson, with decision, 
“ he would have found a waterman to row after 
us and catch you in spite of us, so they didn't 
do themselves much good with that trick." 

The boat from which the two men had been 
fishing, and which had been coming after them 
till then in a leisurely manner, now suddenly 
quickened her pace. She drew abreast, the two 
men in her rowing steadily and quietly. As she 
went by, not an oar's length from the dinghy, 
one of the men paused in his stroke for an instant, 
took something out of his pocket, and threw it 
across to John, then he took up the stroke again, 
and rowed on, and the boat went on down the 
river, travelling swiftly out of sight. 

John picked up the missile in surprise. It 
was a small stone wrapped in a piece of paper 


THE THEFT OF THE SLOOP 219 


upon which some words were written. There 
was no name outside and no signature, and 
John read the words aloud : 

“ I know you are chasing me. You know who 
defies you. I shall serve my country in spite of 
you, and I shall escape, but if you yourself wish 
to escape the menaces which surround you, chase 
me no more. This is a fair warning. There 
will be no second.” 

John and Augustus and the httle man sat and 
looked at each other for a moment in silence. 

“ That’s for me,” said the httle man, drawing 
a long breath, “ and sometimes I think I’m in a 
nightmare. I am not chasing anybody. I do 
not know anyone to chase, and I don’t know 
the faintest reason why anybody should chase 
me.” 

“ Don’t you even know who wrote it ? ” said 
Augustus Clickson. 

“ Of course I don’t,” said the httle man. 
“ How should I ? ” 

John and Augustus gazed with amazed interest 
at a person so surrounded by mystery, and the 
dinghy went rocking down the river at her own 
sweet will, till a sudden howl of indignation 
warned them that she was rapidly approaching 


220 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


the thronged and busy centre of the river, and 
Augustus awoke to this fact just in time to 
prevent her burying her round nose under the 
bows of a barge which was coming up stream 
with difficulty under the exertions of two men 
with long poles, whose wrath at having to deflect 
from their hard won course by several inches 
was very great. 

“ Why don’t you look where you’re going ? ” 
they howled. 

“ Why don’t you ? ” roared Augustus. 

“ We was lookin’ where we was going,” shouted 
the bargees indignantly. 

“ Then you’d the less business to run into us,” 
roared Augustus, and while the bargees were 
still searching for a reply to this truth the dinghy 
bumped her way down the length of the barge 
and rolled out on the tide once more. 

The crowded state of the river now made 
conversation difficult, however, and John kept 
that look out in the bows which was rendered 
advisable by the difficulty the little man ex- 
perienced in remembering that if you pulled 
a boat’s rudder rope one way she did not go 
the other, and by his liability to become 
entangled in both the ropes even when pulling 


THE THEFT OF THE SLOOP 221 


the right one. They once or twice had a miss 
which the occupants of the missed craft refused 
to consider as good as a mile, and Augustus 
consequently parted in indignation from several 
watermen and boatmen on their road. But on 
the whole the dinghy bobbed on under the wide 
bridges of the great thoroughfares of the city 
with credit to her crew; and so came again 
to silent outskirts and deserted beginnings. 
Here, at a little quay very similar to the one 
they had left, they found the little man’s boat. 
She was a small half -decked sloop of cutter rig, 
old and weather-beaten, but with a seaworthy 
aspect. The httle man said that he had hired 
her by telegram from an agent before he came 
to Under, that he might be able to get about 
the river as he wished, without raising comment 
or attention by hiring. As they approached, 
the boat from which the paper had been thrown 
to John suddenly shot out from the quay, with 
the same men in it, and rowed away down the 
river without taking any notice of them. The 
little man, with a view to trying to discover 
who it was had sent the message, hailed them 
loudly. But the men never lifted their heads, 
and were soon out of sight. 


222 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


Jokn and Augustus and the little man were 
making the dinghy fast to the stern of the sloop 
when a voice said from the quay, ‘‘ Is that 
your boat, sir ? ” ; and they turned to see a 
stout man, with a short fair beard, standing 
on the edge, and looking wistfully at the 
sloop. 

“ Yes,” said the little man. 

“ I have had bad news,” said the stout man. 
He spoke with a sHght foreign accent, but his 
tone was frank and pleasant. “ I beg your 
pardon for addressing you, but I am in trouble. 
I have just had word that my wife hes very ill, 
dangerously ill, in my home across the river. 
It is four miles round by the nearest bridge, and 
the ferry-boat is not plying to-day. She leaks, 
and is bottom up in the yard. My wife is 
foreign, as I am myself, and she is alone.” 

He paused, and stood looking humbly at the 
little man. 

“lam very sorry to hear it, my poor fellow,” 
said the little man sympathetically, “ but what 
can I do for you ? ” 

“If you would let me sail across in your 
boat ? ” said the stout man, deprecatingly. 
“ The wind is coming straight down the river. It 


THE THEFT OF THE SLOOP 223 

would only take ten minutes. My home is 
exactly opposite.” 

“ I would sail you across with pleasure,” said 
the httle man, “ but I am not very well versed 
in the sailing of ships, and the man I usually 
take with me is not here.” 

“ I could sail her across myself,” said the 
stout man, “ I have sailed boats all my hfe. 
And there would be certain to be someone on 
the other shore who could bring her back for 
you.” 

“ Then let us lose no time,” said the little 
man. 

Before he departed he pressed a sovereign 
each upon John and Augustus, and when they 
would have refused he said that they had done 
more for him than he could tell them without 
telling them too much, and that he wished this 
little present were not the only thing he could 
do for them in return. 

They hngered a moment to watch the sloop 
sail away before they themselves departed on 
their long delayed business. The stout man 
evidently knew all about handling a boat, and 
he had her under able control before the tide 
had carried her ten yards. The little man sat 


224 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


benevolently in the cockpit and watched his 
proceedings with a sympathetic smile. 

As she stood out into the river, a step sounded 
on the quay, and a policeman, who had appar- 
ently strolled down there on his beat and was 
looking at the departing boat, came up to John 
and Augustus. 

“ Where’s that sloop off to ? ” he said. 

“ To the other side,” said John and Augustus. 

“ Know who’s aboard her ? ” said the police- 
man. 

“ Yes,” said John and Augustus. 

“ When’s she coming back ? ” said the police- 
man. 

“ In ten minutes,” said John and Augustus. 

The policeman looked after her another 
moment, glanced round the quay, and then 
went away again up the little lane that led 
from the quay. 

John and Augustus were now alone. The few 
loafers and children that had been on the quay 
when they arrived had departed to their teas, 
and a strong smell of bloaters was consequently 
arising on the air. The place was silent, save 
for the perpetual slap, slap of the water as it 
poured past the river wall, and set the one or 


THE THEFT OF THE SLOOP 225 

two old tubs which were tied there pulling at 
their ropes. They cast a last glance at the sloop 
as they turned to go — and paused in surprise. 
She had suddenly brought up into the wind in 
mid-stream. For a moment she hung in the 
sunht haze head to the breeze ; then she swung 
round as though she had been struck round, 
and the next instant she was drifting down 
stream broadside on, with her bows pointing to 
the further shore. John and Augustus stared 
at this phenomenon in astonished conjecture. 
It was evident that something had gone wrong, 
though what it was they were at a loss to make 
out. As they gazed a figure suddenly sprang 
into the stern, and hauled the dinghy alongside. 
Then it pulled a second figure out of the cockpit, 
pushed it into the dinghy, and shoved the 
dinghy adrift. John and Augustus gazed aghast 
and incredulous. The sloop was so far out in 
mid -stream that they could only just, by intent 
watching, see what was happening. They saw 
the boom hauled in and the sloop come slowly 
up into the wind again. Then the figure at 
the helm rammed it hard a -port and round came 
the sloop, her bows down stream. The boom 
swung out square off ; her canvas filled. In less 


226 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


time than it takes to tell it, she was away, head- 
ing seaward down the river like a bird ; while far 
in her wake an apparently empty dinghy bobbed 
up and down. 

Considering that John had never had steering 
gear in his hands before, and that Augustus, 
wrought upon by anxiety, gave his directions in 
a tornado of agitated booming, the old tub into 
which they flung themselves kept a creditably 
straight course from the quay to the derelict 
dinghy. They reached the latter and seized her and 
looked anxiously into her. The little man was lying 
trussed in rope hke a cocoon at the bottom of 
the boat, gazing skywards in agitated meditation. 

Sometimes,” he said with a sigh, when he 
saw the faces of John and Augustus appearing 
over the edge of the dinghy, “ I think I’m in 
a nightmare.” 

They got into the dinghy, and, tying the old 
tub to her stern, released the httle man from the 
rope with the aid of Augustus Clickson’s clasp 
knife Then they all sat and looked at each 
other a moment, recovering. 

The sloop was already far down the reach to 
the next bend of the river, and the haze of 
distance was beginning to dim her outhnes. 


THE THEFT OF THE SLOOP 227 


“ Well,” said Augustus, drawing a long breath, 
“ they have done it this time and no mistake.” 

“ But why has he done it at all ? ” cried the 
little man, in despairing bewilderment. “Why 
did he take my ship, and leave me ? What did 
he want my ship for ? What will he do with 
her ? ” 

“ He can do what he jolly well pleases with 
her,” said Augustus. “ In this weather, and she 
the size she is, he can put out for the open sea 
and make port anywhere he pleases.” 

“ The open sea ? ” cried the little man with 
a start. “ But he’s got my brown bag aboard 
her — my bag with all my notes and papers ! 
The work of years is in my papers. And he will 
discover who I am, and my secret will become 
known, and all my labour will have been in 
vain. Oh, my dear lads, my dear lads, let the 
ship go, but I must, I must, recover my papers ! ” 
cried the Httle man, in growing agitation, and he 
wrung his hands. 

“ Well, I don’t see how we’re going to catch 
a full -rigged sloop running before the wind on 
an ebb-tide in a dinghy, and so I tell you, and 
there’s no way out of it,” said Augustus Clickson. 

“ If she’s running before the wind now, she 


228 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


won’t be running before it when she gets round 
the bend, though, will she ? ” said John, con- 
sidering. 

Augustus Chckson’s expression changed. His 
gaze travelled past John down the reach of the 
river. 

“ Won’t she be running before the wind ? ” 
said the little man eagerly. “ What will she be 
running before ? What does a ship do when it 
leaves off running ? Does it stop ? ” 

“ It doesn’t unless it’s got a lunatic aboard 
it,” said Augustus. “ She tacks.” 

As neither John nor the little man had much 
idea of what tacking meant except that it 
brought before them a vague vision of large 
white stitches in unmade clothing, they could 
only sit and look expectantly at Augustus. 

“ She tacks,” said Augustus, “ and tacking in 
a falling tide is no joke and so I tell you. If 
that beast doesn’t know the river jolly well, he’ll 
probably stick on a sand -bank in the next reach. 
Come on.” 

Two minutes later, with the old tub cast off 
astern, they were travelhng down the river as 
fast as the dinghy could take them. 

They met no boats on their way. Not even a 


THE THEFT OF THE SLOOP 229 

steamer cared to face the sand-locked river of 
Under in a head wind and a falling tide unless 
she had to. The water was sinking from the 
shores on either side as though it were sinking 
out of a bath in which the waste-pipe had been 
opened. Half way down the reach the houses 
ceased and the plains began, covered thickly 
with bushes and bracken as high as a man’s 
head. The smoke of the city was gone, and low 
down on the horizon great clouds were gathering 
darkly, the first clouds that had been seen in 
Under for many weeks, while the changing wind 
blew fitfully, shifting always further into the 
south. As for the sloop, it had been long out 
of sight. 

But as they reached the end of the long straight 
stretch, John, who was kneeling in the bows 
and leaning forward to catch the first ghmpse 
of the next stretch, suddenly gave a start that 
nearly sent him into the water. “ She is on 
a sand-bank ! ” he cried ; and round the bend 
came the dinghy, and there the sloop lay. There 
she lay ! — stranded — ^in shoaling water near the 
left bank. She must have come round the curve 
before the wind began to shift into the south, 
and finding herself obliged to leave the 


230 IN THE CITY OF UNDEE 


deep-water channel, had hauled her wind to start 
beating to windward up the reach. But she 
could not have finished even her first tack before 
she struck, for she lay very near the beginning 
of the reach. 

The stout man was still on board. He had 
run out a sweep, and was pushing on it too 
busily at first to hear the approaching dinghy. 
He glanced up a minute later, however, and 
saw her. For a moment he stood transfixed, 
staring as if he could not believe his eyes. Then, 
without a sound or sign of emotion, he cast a 
swift glance round the horizon and up into the 
sky, and held his hand up in the wind. Then 
he dropped the sweep, ran to the bows, and 
swung himself over into the water. 

“ On, go, get, catch him,” cried the little man 
incoherently. “ He may have my papers with him. 
Kun, my dear lads, run. Catch him, catch him.” 

Augustus redoubled his efforts, and lying flat 
on his back with every stroke, rowed thirty to 
the minute. The stout man ran swiftly through 
the shallow water on the sand -bank, and dropped 
into the channel of deep water between it and 
the shore. They saw him go shooting shorewards 
hand over hand. 


THE THEFT OF THE SLOOP 231 


“ He’ll escape, lie’ll escape,” cried the little 
man, and, in the agitation of the moment, he 
pulled the wrong rope with violence. The 
dinghy, still rushing along at top speed under 
the impetus of Augustus Chckson’s frantic row- 
ing, turned upon the sand-bank with energy, 
and climbed it as if she were a member of the 
Alpine Club, and Augustus and the httle man 
ran into each other’s arms, and disappeared in 
a mutual heap in the bottom of the boat, while 
John went over the bows into the shallow water. 
By the time he had rescued himself, and the 
others had separated themselves, and the dinghy 
had been pushed into deep water again, even 
the sound of the stout man’s flight through the 
bracken had ceased. He was gone, and to look 
for him in those miles of man- high bush and 
fern would have been hke looking for an eyelash 
on a beach. 

“ If my papers are only still there,” gasped the 
httle man, nothing else matters.” 

They scrambled upon board the sloop, and 
the first thing they saw was the brown bag. It 
was Ijdng in the cockpit where the httle man had 
dropped it, and it was still locked. The httle 
man clasped it to his breast, and shook hands 


232 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


again and again with John and Augustus. 

“ When my labours in Under are over,” he cried, 

“ I shall insist upon renewing acquaintance with 
you. I shall find some means of repaying you. 

I will, I must, after all you have done for me.” 

It proved rather a difficult business to get 
the sloop off the sand-bank, but by united and 
strenuous effort they managed it at last, and 
started on their return journey. It cannot be 
said that the sloop sailed back to Under quite 
as beautifully as she had sailed away. Augustus 
steered, and John and the little man managed 
the sails with what might truly be called varying 
success, since it only varied into success for 
moments, and by mistake, as it were. Augustus 
was at times perilously near booming, but 
luckily he knew the deep water channels well, 
and the wind had not only shifted several points 
further into the south, but was blowing with 
momentarily increasing strength. The clouds 
were now coming up from all quarters. It was 
dark with more than the darkness of the shadow 
of the chff and the advancing evening when the 
sloop slowly approached the httle quay once 
more, and took up her old moorings. They sent a 
waterman off in the dinghy to find the boat they 


THE THEFT OF THE SLOOP 233 


had cast adrift ; and then the little man insisted 
on their coming with him to his Inn that John 
might get his wet clothes properly dried before 
they started on their own business. He had 
done the return journey in an old jersey of 
William’s which was fortunately on board ; but 
it was too voluminous and overwhelming a 
garment to be worn in the streets. So he re- 
sumed his own clothes, and they went to the 
Waysend Inn. 


CHAPTER XIII 
The Waysend Inn 

The Waysend Inn stood in a street some little 
way back from the river, in the thick of that 
dark and crowded neighbourhood of narrow ways 
into which John and Augustus had first come 
wandering on the occasion of their trial of the 
Charm in the shop of Jabez the Jeweller. It 
stood at a corner, with a main street in front of 
it, and a little deserted lane at the side, and had 
thus two entrances, one a bar entrance, and the 
other a quiet side-door. Loafers were hanging 
in numbers round the front of the house, and 
inside the bar the bar-tenders were driving a 
roaring trade with customers, who were most of 
them roaring too ; but in the httle side lane 
there was nobody about, and John and Augustus 
and the little man made their entrance un- 
observed. 

“ I chose this strange and sordid neighbour- 
hood,” said the little man with a sigh, as he 

234 


THE WAYSEND INN 


235 


pushed open the side door, “ because I thought 
I could bury myself in it, and go about my work 
in Under unnoticed. I do not seem to have 
succeeded, I am sorry to say. But it is not the 
fault of the honest people of the house. I told 
them I was here on secret business, and desired 
that no endeavour should be made to discover 
who I was, or why I came, and they, my land- 
lord and his son, have observed my wishes very 
faithfully, and have asked no questions, and 
expressed no curiosity. I have all my letters 
addressed to the post-office, of course. But 
come upstairs, and we will have some tea while 
your wet clothes are being dried.” 

It occurred to both John and Augustus that 
the httle man could hardly have chosen a neigh- 
bourhood in which the coming and going of 
anyone of decent or prosperous appearance 
would have been noticed more, and it also 
seemed likely that to tell people of the existence 
of a secret, and beg them not to try to penetrate 
it, was not exactly the best way of preventing 
them from doing so. These matters, however, 
were the business of the httle man, from whom 
they would soon be parting in order to go about 
their own business, and though Augustus thrust 


236 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


his hands in his pockets and leapt abstractedly 
once or twice on high, he abstained from further 
comment. 

The house was large and ancient, and it had 
evidently been built in the old days before trade 
and traffic had left the httle quays near which 
it stood. The side door opened into a large 
square hall, round the upper part of which ran 
a gallery. A staircase rose at one end, and at 
the other swing doors hung between the hall 
and the front part of the house. These, as they 
passed them, the httle man pushed open for a 
moment, letting in a distant roar of voices and 
clatter from the bar. He called down the pas- 
sage, and being answered, as it seemed, in a 
startled accent, he ordered tea for three. 

They met no one on their way upstairs. No 
voice or step sounded in this part of the house. 
It lay silent and empty, and dark with the dark- 
ness of the coming storm. 

I think I must be the only lodger they have,’' 
said the httle man as he mounted. I have 
never seen anyone else about since I came, 
though I have sometimes heard steps and voices.” 
His bedroom and his sitting-room opened on to 
the gaUery side by side, and John had just 


THE WAYSEND INN 


237 


exchanged his wet clothes for a dressing-gown 
of the little man’s, when a knock was heard at 
the sitting-room door, and a big black-haired 
man appeared on the threshold. 

Good-evening, Landlord,” said the httle man. 

The Landlord answered nothing. He looked 
once vacantly round the room, and then he 
fixed his eyes on the httle man, and stood 
breathing heavily. 

“ We should like some tea. Landlord,” said 
the httle man mildly, and please take these 
clothes to be dried.” 

** Then it was you a calhn’ down the passage 
just now, Mr. Chart,” said the Landlord, with an 
effort. 

“ Yes, it was I,” said the httle man, “ I 
called for some tea.” 

“ ril bring it,” said the Landlord, and he took 
the clothes and vanished. 

“ A curious fellow,” said the httle man. ‘‘ He 
seems sometimes to be afficted with some sort 
of mental trouble. But very kind-hearted. He 
really appears almost to watch for my return, and 
I can never leave the house without his observing 
me go.” 

The Landlord brought up the tea, and, as he 


238 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


re-entered the room, his eye fell on John. He 
paused, and after a moment said : "Aven't 
I seen you somewhere before, sir ? "" 

John looked at him in surprise, and then 
suddenly recognising him, said : “ Yes. Up in 
the forest — you were in the Hawker's Glade." 

“ Ah ! " said the Landlord gloomily. He went 
on with his duties in silence. 

“ Did you find the Hawker in the end and 
get what you wanted ? " said John pohtely. 

A darker shadow fell on the Landlord's face. 
“ No," he rephed. After a moment he added 
with a sombre aspect : “ No, I never found the 
'Awker, an' I never got what I wanted. I never 
tried again. It's never no good trying nothink." 
He took up his tray, and left the room. 

Half an hour later, having had their tea, and 
John's clothes being dry, he and Augustus said 
good-bye to the httle man at the side door, 
whence he was going to the General Post Office to 
call for his letters. He had taken their addresses 
that he might renew his acquaintance with them 
when his secret labours in Under should be over, 
and he thanked them again and again for all 
they had done for him. John, who had never 
had a whole sovereign in his possession before, 


THE WAYSEND INN 


239 


felt that, in spite of aU their exertions, mystifi- 
cations, and surprises, still greater thanks were 
due from him. 

Well, that was a rum go ! ” said Augustus 
Chckson, putting his hands in his pockets, and 
leaping thoughtfully as they walked away. 

“ I’m afraid they’ll get him directly, now we’re 
not there to save him,” said John. 

“ Well, we can’t go on saving him for ever,” 
said Augustus, with decision. “ We’ve been 
saving him the whole afternoon already. He’s 
the sort of httle man you’d always have to save. 
Come on. We’ve scarcely enough time left to 
do anything in as it is.” 

So they hastened through the streets. The 
wind was gone; and overhead, piled in black 
mountains one upon the other, the clouds lay 
motionless. There was a strange stillness up there, 
its base appearing to rest upon the housetops, 
under which the noise and turmoil of the 
streets echoed loudly and oddly, as under a 
roof. 

They had gone some little distance when John 
suddenly stopped with a gasp. “ Clickson ! ” he 
said, “ I’ve forgotten the Charm ! ” 

“ You haverCt ! ” ejaculated Augustus. 


240 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


“ I have,” said John. “ I left it standing in 
a corner of the sitting-room.” 

“ Well, you are an ass ! ” said Augustus, wrath- 
fully. “ As if we hadn’t wasted enough time 
already ! It will be hours too late to do anything 
by the time we get to the North Quarter. A 
very httle more, John Hazard, and I shall have 
had enough of it, and so I warn you. Cut back 
this instant, and get it, and don’t stand talking. 
I shall wait here. I’m not coming all that way 
back with you, and you needn’t think it.” 

John ran back at full speed. He arrived at 
his destination breathless, and, turning into the 
side street, entered the Inn by the side door, and 
went through the hall. He met no one on his 
way. The dusk of the waiting storm, and of 
the advancing hour of the evening still lay over 
the old house unlit by lamp or candle. He went 
cautiously upstairs, feeling his way. The sitting- 
room was so dark that he had to cross it slowly 
step by step, with his hands out before him. 
Under his light tread, the old boards hardly 
creaked. 

He reached the comer in which he had left 
the Charm, and found it still there, and clasped 
it thankfully, and turned to go. He got safely 


THE WAYSEND INN 


241 


across the room, and, as he stepped through the 
door on to the gallery he heard the sound of the 
swing door closing itself below, and a deep and 
gloomy voice came up out of the dim hall. “ Oh, 
William ! William ! ” it said. 

The voice so evidently beheved itself to be in 
the hearing of one person only that John invol- 
untarily stopped, and before he could move 
again, a second voice said in faltering accents : 
“ What’s ’appened, father ? ” 

“ Not}),mFs ’appened, William,” announced the 
first voice, significantly, ‘‘ nothink whatever, in 
spite of all ’is dodges. The sloop is safe at the 
quay, for I sent out to see, an’ ’e’s come back 
safe and sound ’isself, an’ ’as gone out to get 
’is letters.” 

A step suddenly made itself heard, and the 
swing door swung open again, letting in a momen- 
tary roar of sound from the front of the house. 
A third voice arose in the hall. 

“ You speak alone ? The house is empty ? ” 

“ Yes,” said the trembling voice of William. 
“ ’E’s come back, but ’e’s gone out again to get 
’is letters.” 

“ Well, I am come back too,” said the third 
voice, “ The plan failed.” 

Q 


242 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


“ What ’appened ? ” said William, faintly. 

“ Oh, William, William ! ” groaned the Landlord. 

“ It nearly succeeded,” said the third voice, 
bitterly. “ But for an ill-chance it would have 
completely succeeded, and I should have been 
out at sea with the papers by now, and safe. 
It was a bold stroke. It deserved to succeed. 
But the tide was falling, and the wind changing. 
I ran the boat on to a sand -bank.” 

“ Oh Lord, oh Lord ! ” wailed William. 

“ The Enghsh spy came after me,” said the 
third voice, “ I had to swim to escape, and I 
have been sitting outside the city in wet clothes 
for hours, waiting for the dark. It was a brave 
plan. Had there been the least chance of my 
being able to take the sloop out of the river, 
even in a falling tide and with darkness coming 
on, I would have downed him and the lads, and 
done it. But the wind was changing, and there 
was none.” 

The gasp of William, and the Landlord’s groan, 
drowned the gasp that John was unable to 
repress. There was a pause, and the sound of 
slow steps came up through the dusk, as though 
the owner of the third voice were pacing up and 
down. 


THE WAYSEND INN 


243 


“Jabez ain’t give nothing away yet,” said 
the faltering voice of William. “ They don’t 
know nothink about the papers. They’re still 
only looking for you because they think you ’ad 
something to do with the jewels because of them 
’aving seen you about ’is place.” 

“ It makes little difference why they are on 
my track, sii^ce they are on it,” said the third 
voice, with cold impatience. “ The departure 
of every train and boat is watched, and this 
place is like a trap with its great wall, and its 
two ways out, and both shut. It is not 1 that 
have bungled ! Why was the package sent to 
such a place as this for me to take charge of it ? 
Why was an old Jew, already under suspicion 
for theft and worse, chosen as the go-between ? 
And up above me sits that English spy, watch- 
ing, watching, ready to pounce at any moment. 
He has the devil’s own luck, that English spy. 
I have let him know his business is known, and 
tried to frighten him off. I have tried to get 
him put out of the way till I had escaped. Jabez 
has laid false information against him with the 
police — all the righteous and unrighteous forces 
in Under have been set to work to delay him, 
and none of them have done it, even for a day. 


244 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


He is not working with the police — ^that much 
is certain. He is some secret service man, 
working on some private information from 
abroad. He is a fool — an amateur and a fool — 
but the merest chance might direct him rightly 
any day. He does not know yet on whom to 
fall, but how do we know that he has not even 
now already completed his observations ? It 
was no chance brought him to watch at this inn, 
with his secret business, and his ship to watch 
the river, and his daily prying and hunting, and 
his assumed name, and his foreign letters, and 
his locked bag. I would have taken that bag 
with me off the sloop to-day, but that I had to 
swim for it. I had had no time to break the 
lock, and get the papers. And but for ?/ow,” 
said the voice, speaking with sudden fierceness, 
“ but for you, I would have had him tied up 
in the house, and out of mischief long ago, and 
one danger, at least, removed. It is you who 
add this risk to the risks I must suffer in the 

service of my beloved country, you ” 

“ You ain’t Enghsh, an’ it’s the same to me 
’ow you suffer in the service of your ’orrid coun- 
try,” said the voice of the Landlord, agitated but 
defiant. “ I won’t ’ave nobody touched in my 


THE WAYSENB INN 


245 


’ouse, I won’t, an’ there’s an end on it. If it 
wasn’t that it’s never no use tryin’ nothink, I’d 
a tried to stop it altogether afore now, an’ it’s 
not the upstairs lodger as would ’ave found 
’isself tied up. I can’t ’elp what ’appens out- 
side, but if anybody touches anybody in my 
’ouse, I go to the police in that moment, and 
tells ’em everythink I knows, even if it’s my 
only son I ’as to tell against. Oh, William, 
William ! ” 

“ I thought there was money in it, father,” 
said the voice of William, weeping. “ An’ there 
ain’t nothing been give away yet. Old Jabez’s 
old daughter ’as got ’erself off somewheres since 
Jabez was took, an’ the child too, so they can’t 
make them tell any think.” 

“There are too many people about who can 
tell things for me to dare stay another moment 
with the papers in this city,” said the third voice. 
“ Now that Jabez is arrested, and the Englishman 
has seen me, the game is all but up. I must 
make one more attempt, and it will be a desperate 
one. I shall try to get off on the 7.30 goods 
train to-night, in disguise, and make my escape 
from that halt in the hills. Get the cart ready, 
William, and you will come with me to help me. 


246 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


And bring me the Englishman’s bag. He will 
not have taken it to the post-office. Locked or 
not, I will have his papers, and find out the 
sources of his information.” 

“ I won’t ’ave ’is bag took,” said the Landlord, 
agitatedly. 

“ You will hold your tongue,” said the third 
voice, fiercely, “ an’ remember that if I am taken, 
your son is too.” 

“ Oh, William, William ! ” said the Landlord, 
with a groan of collapse. 

Departing steps sounded in the hall, and there 
was the noise of a closing door. Silence ensued 
in the hall for a moment. Then the groan of 
the Landlord rose again. “ Oh, William, Wil- 
liam ! ” 

“ I thought there was money in it, father,” 
said Wilham, weeping. 

“ A thing as ’as money in it, William,” said 
the Landlord, “ orften ’as ruing in it, too. An’ 
ruing it ’ill be if them papers is found in this 
’ouse. Oh William, William, why didn’t you 
keep out of it as I told you ! ” 

“ I didn’t seem able to, father,” wailed Wilham, 
“ I don’t seem able to keep out of nothink.” 

“ Perhaps if I’d got that there Charm as I 


THE WAYSENE INN 


247 


went arter,” said the Landiord, with a sigh, “ it 
might ’ave ’elped you a bit. But it didn’t seem 
worth trying again. I never ’ave no ’eart to 
try things twice over. I’ve often thought of 
tryin’ ways to keep you outer mischief, but they 
none on ’em seemed some’ow worth beginnin’. 
Why don’t ’e send them papers away by post, 
William, if ’e can’t get ’em out of Under ’isself ? ” 

“ There’s been one lot gone wrong in the past 
already,” said Wilham, weeping. ’E’s got to 
get these out ’isself.” 

“ Oh, William, William ! ” groaned the Land- 
lord. 

“ I mus’ go an’ put the ’orse in the trap,” said 
William’s faltering voice, and his sniffs died away 
with his trembling steps and those of his father. 

Augustus Clickson, waiting at the street corner 
in much the same condition as an over-charged 
cannon without a target, opened his mouth wide 
to discharge himself with fury as he caught sight 
of John running towards him through the crowds, 
and shut it again abruptly as John came nearer 
and he saw his face. He plunged his hands into 
his pockets and leapt. 

“ What’s up ? ” he said. 

“ That stout man who stole the sloop is in the 


248 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


Waysend Inn,” said John, panting, ‘‘ and he’s 
going to escape out of Under by the goods train 
to-night and take the papers out of the brown 
bag with him because he thinks the little man 
is a spy.” 

Augustus stood staring, momentarily bereft 
of words. John strove to tell him further 
details, but it is difficult to convey a clear im- 
pression when you have no clear impression to 
convey. Long before John had finished trying 
to tell him what he had heard, Augustus was 
in the same chaotic mental condition as John 
himself. Jews, jewels, papers, ruin, pohcemen, 
spies, secrets, mysteries and brown bags all 
seemed to be mixed up in the same inextricable 
chaos together. It was clear that there were two 
people with secrets in the Waysend Inn, and the 
fact that they had both chosen the same inn in 
which to keep their secrets had evidently resulted 
in dreadful confusion. The poHce seemed to 
be as much confused as anybody, since they 
were chasing one man for something wrong he 
hadn’t done, though he had done something 
wrong and was apparently still doing it, and the 
other man for having done something wrong 
when he had done nothing at all. More than this 


THE WAYSEND INN 


249 


it was impossible, in the haste of the moment, 
to make out ; except that whatever the httle 
man’s secret might be, it could not be that he 
was a spy, since he had definitely declared that 
he was chasing nobody and knew no reason why 
anybody should chase him. Finally, one thing 
emerged from the mystery, and remained clear. 
John and Augustus must postpone their own 
business again at once and resume the business 
of saving the little man, for unless they could 
find him before half-past seven that night, the 
contents of his brown bag would be taken out of 
Under and lost to him for ever. 

John had tried to discover the brown bag him- 
self before leaving the Inn, but after feehng 
about in the dark for some minutes, he had 
heard a distant door open, and had precipitately 
fled lest he should be himself discovered and 
detained. For a moment he and Augustus 
debated whether it would not be better to look 
for a policeman and tell him sufficient to cause 
him to arrest the stout man in the Waysend Inn 
merely for being a thief, but the difficulty of 
teUing a policeman sufficient without teUing him 
too much made them hesitate. They were far from 
sure, remembering the events of the afternoon, 


250 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


whether the httle man would not almost rather 
his papers were taken out of Under than that 
they should be saved and seen by a pohceman 
and he himself be obliged to reveal his secret. 

As they started for the General Post Office, 
the clocks of the city struck a quarter to seven. 
They raced across the bridge. The river down 
which they had travelled through a sunlit haze 
that afternoon now lay like a band of steel 
below them, dark under the black heavens, and 
far away on the horizon a sudden low rumble 
rose and died away. “ There’s the storm,” 
said a man among the hurrying crowds, and 
John and Augustus hastened their steps. 

“If we could only get a hft ! ” panted John, 
as they turned down a quieter street. 

“ We’ll stop the next cart going our way,” said 
Augustus. 

But the effort only seemed to have occasioned 
them more delay. It happened to be a butcher’s 
cart that came racketing up behind them in haste 
to get out of the storm, and when the butcher 
pulled up within an inch of the waving and 
dauntless Augustus, and found why he had been 
stopped, he was beside himself with indignation 
and surprise. 


THE WAYSEND INN 


251 


“ Give you a lift — I never ’eard such cheek ! 
I’ll see you further first, you rascals ! ” he cried. 
“ Stopping tired ’orses an’ busy men on their 
road to save your own lazy legs. Get out of the 
way or I’ll drive you down,” and he lashed his 
steaming horse and was away down the street 
and out of sight before Augustus could get out 
another word. 

Augustus W’'as so enraged that he became 
momentarily speechless, and he had just reached 
the point of “ I’ve had enough of this, John 
Hazard, and so I tell you. If you like to go on 
looking after fools who can’t look after them- 
selves, you can go on by ” when a cart came 

rattling furiously towards them down the street 
and drew up by them with a clatter and splutter 
and a slither of the horse’s hoofs. 

“Was I himperlite jus’ now, as it were ? ” 
inquired the Butcher’s voice, mildly. 

John and Augustus were so taken aback that 
Augustus forgot his rage and they both gazed 
at him in amazement. 

“ Was I what you’d call himperlite just now ? ” 
said the Butcher again. 

“ Yes, you were, and so I tell you,” said 
Augustus, recovering. 


252 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


“ I do get a bit short Satterday nights,” said 
the Butcher, apologetically. “ Overdruv, as it 
were, both my ’orse an’ me. But not himperlite ! 
Come now, you’d hardly call that himperhte ! 
Himperhte is the larst thing I’d be ! Was it a 
lift you wanted ? Pleased, I’m sure, if I’m goin’ 
your way.” 

He helped the astonished John and Augustus 
in, and offered them a piece of his rug, and the 
next moment they were all rattling down the 
street towards the General Post Office together 
behind the steaming horse. 

“ I ’ope you don’t find yourselves ’urt in 
your feehngs any longer, so to speak ? ” inquired 
the Butcher, as they turned the corner. 

“ No, thank you,” said John, pohtely. “ It’s 
very kind of you.” He had recognized the 
Butcher, but the Butcher had evidently not 
recognized him, and John was not sure whether 
it would be kind to remind the Butcher of their 
acquaintanceship, seeing the circumstances under 
which it had been made. 

“Yes,” said the Butcher, with satisfaction. 

Kind! Yes, that’s what I ham. Kind. Ah, 
I ’ad a lesson in himperliteness once sech as 
you’d never forget, never. If you ever find 


THE WAYSEND INN 


253 


yourself bein’ himperlite, you take a warning 
by me. Oh, what a dreadful thing it is to be 
himperlite. You remember me when next you 
feel yourselves gettin’ a bit short, as might 
’appen to any of us. Oh, what a lesson it was. 
Not a thing you’d risk twice, it wasn’t, an’ ’im 
no more than a street ’awker as you’d ’ardly 
stop to pick up if you knocked ’im over. But 
I’d pick up hanybody now, I would. Rich or 
pore, beggar or prince, himperhte is what I 
never ham to no one, an’ a better-tempered man 
you’d ’ardly meet in a day’s march. You don’t 
risk a lesson like that twice in a hfetime, you 
don’t. I’m leavin’ Under shortly for a better 
job, but if I was to go to the ends of the world I 
shouldn’t forget a lesson hke that.” 

He put them down at the post office, and drove 
off beaming with a happy consciousness of his 
own good heart and pohteness, and John and 
Augustus hurried up the steps. As they did so 
the clock above the door struck a quarter past 
seven. 

The man at the letter counter said that Mr. 
George Chart had not yet been for his letters, and 
John and Augustus made a hurried search of the 
great building and then of its approaches and 


254 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


the streets surrounding it. But the little man 
was nowhere to be seen, and the long hand of 
the clock was at five when they again looked up 
at it. Five minutes more, and the goods train 
would be gone, and the papers out of the brown 
bag would probably go with it. 

John and Augustus stopped and looked at 
each other. Augustus put his hands in his 
pockets and leapt. As far as the finding of the 
little man before half -past seven was concerned, 
they were beaten. 

With a vague idea of seeing whether the man 
from the Inn was really going to succeed in 
getting off by the goods train, and with a still 
vaguer idea of trying to find some means at the 
last moment by which they could succeed in 
stopping him from doing so, they hurried across 
the street and into the great Central Station. 
But at the barrier of the goods platform to which 
they asked their way, they were stopped them- 
selves. 

“ No passenger train from this platform,” 
said the official, who was passing out. 

“We know,” said John, breathlessly. “We 
want to see something about a goods train. 
Please let us through.” 


THE WAYSEND INN 


255 


“ Nobody goes through this ’ere goods barrier 
excep’ on business,” said the official, severely. 
“ What business ’ave you two lads got with a 
goods train ? An’ if it was the seven-thirty you 
wanted, she’s off.” 

As he spoke a whistle sounded from beyond 
the barrier, and the big clock in the station 
struck the half-hour. The goods train was gone. 

While John and Augustus stood gazing at 
each other, wondering what to begin to try to 
do next, the barrier swung open to let someone 
through, and William came running out and 
hurried away with a pale face, without looking 
at anyone. The next moment, walking forth 
with a mildly jaunty and benevolent air, there 
came the little figure of the little man. He 
paused in pleased surprise on seeing John and 
Augustus. 

“ My dear lads ! ” he said. “ Do we meet 
again ? Have you already finished your business ? 
I have not been so expeditious, and I must hasten 
now to the post office. But I was delayed by 
a touching little incident. As I was crossing 
the station, having come hither by train, I saw 
an unfortunate old country man, almost in- 
firticulate with age and anxiety, in great distress 


256 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


because this good fellow here would not let him 
through to the goods train. He had lost the 
last passenger train home to his village, and 
wanted to be allowed to travel by the goods 
train. William was with him. He was a friend 
of poor WiUiam’s, so I was able to speak for him 
to the Inspector. I was very glad to be able 
to help the distressed old fellow out of his diffi- 
culty. He had a dreadful cold ; he was hardly 
able to speak. And I am much obhged to you, 
my dear sir,” said the httle man, holding out 
his hand to the official, “ for enabling me to help 
him. I made it all right with the guard. Allow 
me to shake hands with you. Dear me, you 
have dropped ten shilhngs. Allow me. Good- 
night, good-night. My dear lads, let us not 
part at once, since we have so unexpectedly 
met again. Come with me to the post office if 
you have finished your own business.” 

But John and Augustus stood staring at him, 
in a dismay so great that Augustus was unable 
even to leap. The official had gone gratified 
upon his way, and they were alone. John 
could find no words at all ; Augustus could only 
ejaculate in horror, “ My gracious, you have 
been and done it now, so I tell you,” 


THE WAYSEND INN 257 

The little man, with an instant premonition of 
disaster, looked at them with a paling face. 

“ Done ? ” he said in a faltering voice. “ What 
have I done ? ” 

“ You’ve helped the chap who stole your 
sloop this afternoon to get safely away,” said 
Augustus. “ That’s what you’ve done. It’s 
he that has been trying to get at you all this 
time because he thinks you’re a spy, and he’s 
taken the papers out of your brown bag and got 
clear away by that goods train.” 

“ Am I dreaming ? ” said the little man faintly, 
putting his hand against the goods barrier 
for support. “ I must be dreaming. Say it 
again.” 

Augustus said it again, and bade John tell 
what he had overheard in the Inn. John told 
it as best he could, but even at his best it was a 
confusing story. 

“ This is a nightmare,” said the little man in 
trembling accents. “It can be nothing but a 
nightmare. My Landlord — William — it is im- 
possible, incredible ! Who was the man, why 
was he hiding in the Inn, why did he think I 
was a spy, what was he doing, of what was he 
afraid ? And do you tell me I have just helped 

R 


258 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


him to get away in disguise by the goods train ? 
Impossible, impossible ! I’m dreaming, I must be 
dreaming. But oh, my dear lads, my dear lads,” 
cried the httle man, with a sudden violent start, 
“ did you say he had taken away my papers ? ” 

John and Augustus were obliged to make it 
clear that this was what they had said. 

There was a dreadful silence. 

“ My papers ! ” said the little man, slowly 
and solenmly. “ He has taken my papers. I 
have helped him to escape by the goods train, 
and he had my papers. The work of years 
is in my papers. The labour of years is lost 
if I have lost my papers.” 

He put his hand to his head and leaned against 
the goods barrier. “ My mind is going,” he 
said faintly. “ I am bewildered. Let me collect 
myself. Let us collect ourselves, my dear lads. 
Let us be brave. There is only one thing that 
really matters in all this — I must get back my 
papers. Let us now consider carefully and 
clearly how we can get back my papers.” 

Alas, the longer and more carefully they con- 
sidered, the clearer it only became that there was 
apparently no way whatever of getting back 
the papers. 


THE WAYSEND INN 


259 


The goods train would not stop till she slowed 
down far away at the halt beyond the uplands, 
and there the old man would descend to go to 
his village home — and disappear into space. 
They thought of telegraphing ahead of the train, 
but a hurried visit to the telegraph office revealed 
the fact there was no telegraph office at the halt, 
nor anyone there to receive a telegram even had 
it been possible to send one. The first station, at 
Wayport, twenty miles further on, was the first 
place to which they could telegraph ; and when 
the goods train reached that station there would 
be no old man traveUing on her. They might 
hire a special to chase her, but there would 
always be the possibihty of the old man's shpping 
away in the darkness at the first slowing down ; 
and they could not in any event stop a train 
and arrest a man upon her and take papers from 
him, without first giving very adequate reasons 
and explanations to the pohce and obtaining a 
warrant for such a proceeding. This would take 
so long that the goods train might have reached 
and left the halt before they could overtake her, 
and it also involved the immediate revelation 
of the httle man's secret and identity — a step to 
which he was still despairingly averse unless it 


260 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


was certain of success. There seemed absolutely 
no way out of it. 

They left the telegraph office, which was on 
the market-place, and walked slowly along by 
the market. The little man went with a stony 
face, stricken and silent. John and Augustus 
walked along with him. They felt they could not 
leave him for their own business when such dis- 
aster had just overtaken his. The Saturday night 
market was in full swing, and its noise went up 
to the tremendous and lowering skies that hung 
silently over the city. Suddenly a voice rose 
above the turmoil. “ Staves to sell, staves to 
sell,” it cried, and John stopped with a start. 

There's the Hawker,” he said, “ let's ask 
him. There must be a way out ; there's always 
a way out. Let's find the Hawker.” 

Even as he spoke, a blast of wind dropped out 
of the sky and struck the city. There came a 
blaze that lit every startled face in the market- 
place with a dreadful flame, and showed the great 
cliff for miles, standing huge and inscrutable 
in the blackness over Under. Then, with a roar 
that shook the foundations of the houses, the 
worst storm ever known in the city — ^the storm 
that ended the most brilliant summer that had 


THE WAYSEND INN 


261 


passed over it since the days when old Mother 
Letitlie was a girl — ^broke upon Under. In the 
light of the first flash, a man with a load on his 
shoulders stepped out from the crowd in the 
market, and stood before them. 

** Hawker ! ” cried John. 

“ Come with me,” said the Hawker ; and he 
laid his hand on the shoulder of the little man. 


CHAPTER XIV 
The Hawker Leaves Under 

Augustus Clickson and John, left alone in the 
confusion and uproar of the market-place, did 
not stay there long. The storm seemed to be 
actually down in the city itself, so near and 
simultaneous were flash and explosion. One 
booth after another was going down with a 
crash, and the air was filled with shrieks and 
flying slates and debris torn from the stalls. 
Some of the braver market people were trying to 
save their goods, but the majority had abandoned 
them in terror. Crowds rushed past John and 
Augustus seeking shelter, and they were swept 
and hustled from side to side. 

“ Let’s get out of this,” said Augustus, as they 
held together for fear of being separated. “ It 
can’t last long at this rate. Let’s get into some 
quiet street and look for a doorway, and when the 
storm’s over, we can start out again and finish 
up the Charm.” 


2G2 


The HAWKEB leaves under 263 


They made their way with difficulty — Augustus 
fighting for a road with the irritation that always 
filled him when he found himself opposed — ^up 
the first street they came to that led from the 
market-place, but every doorway they saw was 
already filled with terrified people, and they had 
to push on as best they could, drenched with the 
furious rain and dazed by the incessant alterna- 
tion of glare and roar. 

They had nearly reached the end of the street 
when suddenly, dlose behind them, a door opened 
and a hand came out and grasped John by the 
arm. “ Come in, come in quick, my dears,” said 
a benevolent voice ; and before the surprised 
John realized what was happening he found him- 
self drawn in out of the street, and the hand had 
emerged again and drawn Augustus in beside 
him. 

“ I went to the shop -door to see if it was ’oldin’ 
all right,” said the voice, “ an’ there was you a 
drowndin’ all by yourselves outside. You’re 
the perlite little boy as come arter ’Enery’s place, 
aren’t you, my dear, and I’m sure I’m pleased 
to see you again. Come in, come in outer the 
shop, do, an’ ’ave some supper an’ get orf your 
wet things.” 


264 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 

John and Augustus, recovering from their 
surprise, followed the stout woman through the 
curtained glass -door into a little sitting-room. 

“ Sit down by the fire,” she said, “ an’ get 
outer your wet coats while I dry them, an’ I’ll 
make you a drop of ’ot tea. Oh, my goodness, 
what a storm for you to be out in ! Never do I 
remember such a storm, not in all my bom days, 
I don’t. Good ’evings, what a crash, an’ I’m 
sure I’m pleased to meet you again, my dear, for 
a perliter little boy I never see, a standin’ there 
a bowin’ and a bowin’ as if you could ’ardly leave 
it orf, as I see with me own eyes every time I 
looked through the door though ’ardly takin’ it 
in at the time through been’ wishful to cheer up 
’Enery. But I’m glad you didn’t take our place 
for I’m in ’opes of persuadin’ ’im to leave Under 
as is not a town anybody would stay in if they 
could ’elp it, an’ start business in a better spot. 
My ’evings, what a flash — an’ ’im out in all this 
a-settin’ lookin’ at the dark side of things at a 
Conservative meetin’ an’ ’ating it the way ’e 
does, which orften as ’e ’ad ’is tea under the 
bed, pore feller, a -shriekin’ at every flash 
through rememberin’ ’is aunt as died in a 
thunder-storm at the age of ninety-five, an* 


THE HAWKER LEAVES UNDER 265 


never spoke again, which reminds me, my dear, 
to ask you if you’ve got a place yet ? ” 

“ No, not yet,” said John. 

“ He jolly soon will have though,” said Augus- 
tus. “ We’re going to try again to-night.” 

“ Now don’t you go out into the storm again 
to-night, my dears,” said the stout woman. “ It 
won’t be over for a couple of hours yet. You 
put it orf till Monday an’ set ’ere comfortable, 
remembering ’Enery’s aunt. You won’t ’ave no 
difficulty gettin’ a place Monday. ’H’any one ’ud 
want a perlite little boy as keeps a -bowin’ and a- 
bowin’ as though ’e could ’ardly leave it orf, an’ 
why don’t you try the Mayor’s ? ” 

“ The Mayor’s ? ” repeated John and Augus- 
tus, gazing at her in surprise. 

“ How could I get a place as an errand-boy 
with a Mayor ? ” added John. 

“You could all right, my dear,” said the stout 
woman. “ Why not ? Trimmers is ’is name. 
Trimmers’s shops is all over Under, ’e ’aving 
begun with one small one twenty years ago, but 
now ’as ’is own kerridge an’ three footmen in suits 
through talkin’ more than anyone in Under an’ 
never losin’ a chanst of it. E’d be glad to ’ave 
you, I’m sure, for a perhter little boy I never see, 


266 IN THE CITY OE UNDEH 

a-bowin’ and a-bowin’ as if you could ’ardly leave 
it ’orf ; an’ Robert, as is my sister’s son in one 
of Trimmers’s, ’e was sayin’ to me honly the 
other week — ‘the manners of the herrand-boys 
of the present day, Harnt,’ ses ’e to me, ‘ is 
somethink dreadful,’ ses ’e, ‘ they not ’aving got 
none,’ ses ’e. So you try Trimmers’s, my 
dear.” 

“It’s not half a bad idea,” said Augustus, 
arising to leap thoughtfully. “ My father knows 
old Trimmer. I’ll bag one of my father’s cards 
and we’ll go and see him to-morrow. He’s sure 
to be in on Sunday.” 

“Yes, you try Trimmers’s,” said the stout 
woman. 

“ And we might go and look at the outsides 
of some of his shops to-night,” said Augustus, 
arising once more, “ and settle which one of them 
Hazard would like best. The storm’s not so bad 
now, I think, and we’d better ” 

“ Now you set ’ere comfortable remembering 
’Enery’s aunt an’ eat your suppers thankful,” 
said the stout woman, putting the surprised 
Augustus back into his seat. “ The storm won’t 
be over for another hour yet.” 

The storm gave emphasis to her remarks with 


THE HAWKER LEAVES UNDER 267 

an undiminished roar of wind and thunder outside 
the shuttered windows at that moment ; and 
it is in any event difficult to say good-bye to a 
person who will not say it to you, while to get up 
and merely walk away without saying anything 
to someone who has given you shelter and dry 
clothes and tea, and is in the midst of a conversa- 
tion while preparing to give you supper, is more 
difficult yet. So John and Augustus sat still. 

It was ten minutes to ten before the stout 
woman interrupted her conversation sufficiently 
to remark that she thought the storm was really 
beginning to roll off a bit ; and at ten she said 
that perhaps they had better risk it now because 
of their mothers, though she herself was far from 
sure. At five minutes past ten, still discoursing 
anxiously about Monday and Henry’s aunt, she 
shook hands with them at the shop-door in a kind 
of conversational trance which continued to emit 
remarks even when they were round the corner. 

It was a wrecked city through which John and 
Augustus passed that night. Chimneys struck, 
walls flat, roofs off, slates scattered, leafage 
strewn, streets flooded — harm and damage every- 
where ; as though the hand of some irritated 
being had swept Under with an impatient blow. 


268 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


Mother Letitlie had been long gone from her 
doorway by the time John passed it, for it is 
impossible to leave a thing be when it won’t 
leave you, and had she remained in her doorway 
the storm would have blown her out of it into 
the gutter. But John’s mother was on her door- 
step, looking out for him in some anxiety, and 
she hurried him upstairs at once and to bed. 
Nor was John sorry to go there, after the arduous 
events with which he and Augustus had been 
wrestling that day. He fell asleep almost as 
soon as his head touched the pillow. But as 
the first faint change of the dawn broke over 
the city of Under, John began to dream. He 
dreamed he heard a voice calling him outside 
the window ; and it called him so insistently 
and clearly that he awoke. He looked round 
him. The darkness was grey instead of black. 
He had gone to sleep amid the roar of distant 
thunder and the driving of wind and rain. Now 
there was silence outside except for the steady 
pour of a quiet shower and the sound of the 
window-curtains moving in the breeze. He lay 
still a moment, listening, and suddenly, down 
the silent street outside, he heard a footstep 
coming. It stopped underneath the window, 


THE HAWKER LEAVES UNDER 269 

and John slipped out of bed and went to it and 
looked out. 

The Hawker stood below in the quiet breeze 
and the grey hght of the early day. He had no 
load of staves upon his shoulders, and he was 
standing looking down the street as if he were 
waiting for something before going on his way. 
When he heard John, he looked up. 

‘‘ Good-bye,” said the Hawker. 

A flood of questions rose to John’s lips at the 
sight of him. 

“ What happened last night, Hawker ? ” he 
began eagerly. 

“ Well, I’m afraid I haven’t time to tell you,” 
said the Hawker, “ I am only stopping on my 
road for a minute to say good-bye. I must go 
on.” 

“ But tell me whether you found a way of 
saving the little man’s papers, anyway,” said 
John. ” You’ve time to tell me that much.” 

” There is a way to be found of doing most 
things,” said the Hawker. ” Yes, we did do 
that. You’ll hear all the rest from him. Good- 
bye.” 

“ Well, we’ll see you on Monday, Hawker,” 
said John, reassuringly. ” Clickson and I are 


270 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 

going to the Mayor’s this afternoon to do the 
Charm at him and ask for a situation in one of 
his shops, and we’ll come to the market-place 
on Monday and tell you if we get it.” 

The Hawker looked up, and smiled, and went 
away down the street through the rain and the 
morning wind ; and looked back no more. 

John scrambled back into bed, and snugghng 
down into its warmth after the chilliness of the 
window, fell asleep again. 

All the next day it rained ofi and on, and when 
John’s mother went out after the midday dinner 
to take a Sunday meal to the old grandfather of 
the girl who came to help and never helped at all, 
she had to put on a waterproof for the first time 
for many a long day. At half -past three Augus- 
tus was to come down Down Street after his 
usual fashion, and at three John, in his Sunday 
suit, was standing considering on the doorstep, 
watching a shower that he hoped was about to 
leave off showering before he went out. James 
was not studying in the dining-room window. 
He had returned abstractedly and with no ex- 
planations to his interested mother, either as to 
the cook or the loaf, late in the evening of 
the day he had gone away with the brainless 


THE HAWKER LEAVES UNDER 271 

Professor ; and that morning early he had again 
departed in the same manner. Amoris Ellen was 
changing her frock in the back bedroom with her 
usual rather worried irritation at having nothing 
she could call a frock to change into, preparatory 
to venting all her worries, and speedily forgetting 
them, in a burst of song at the old piano. The 
little house lay quiet and silent behind John, 
and he was just about to leave it and step out 
into the clearing shower, when he saw the figure 
of a lady coming down Down Street accompanied 
by a crowd of little boys. She put down her 
umbrella at that moment, and John recognized 
her with a shock of surprise and a slight sense 
of anxiety. It was Mariamne who was walking 
pensively down Down Street amid the Httle boys 
who always accompanied everybody down Down 
Street who did not belong there. She came 
along, looking about her, and when she was 
within a few feet of the doorstep, her eyes fell on 
John, who had stood on one leg several times in 
anticipation of the recognition. 

“ Boot-hoy ! said Mariamne, stopping short 
with a pleased smile. 

‘‘ Fm not a boot-boy,’' said John, smihng 
mildly. 


■272 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


“ Well, you very nearly were,** said Mariamne, 
coming up closer. “ Is this where you live, 
boot-boy ? ** 

‘‘ Yes,** said John. 

It*s not much of a place to hve in,** said 
Mariamne, looking about her, while all the little 
boys grouped themselves on the pavement and 
stared at her in dead silence. 

‘‘ Perhaps we shan*t all of us have to live in it 
always,** said John. 

If you hke, boot-boy,** said Mariamne, “ you 
can leave ofi living in it this minute. I came to 
find you to tell you so. You can come and Hve 
on Wickle Hill if you Hke. You needn*t come as 
boot-boy. You had better come as nothing at all, 
because nothing could be more inexpHcable than 
that, and I want to have somebody in the house 
whom nobody can explain and who never explain 
anything to me. I never met anybody who 
explained so little as you, so I thought of offering 
you the post. It will drive poor George com- 
pletely mad, of course. He will spend hours 
trying to explain you, and you can’t explain a 
thing that hasn*t an explanation. But I don*t 
know that we need very much mind George*s 
going mad. Will you come, boot-boy ? ** 


THE HAWKER LEAVES UNDER 273 


But John was spared the difficulty of deciding 
whether he would accept the post of the repre- 
sentation of the inexpHcable in Mariamne’s 
undisciplined household to the further maddening 
of the stout gentleman, for suddenly, in the up- 
stairs parlour, Amoris Ellen began to sing. 

Mariamne gave a start, and stood transfixed. 
The little boys transferred their gaze from her to 
the open parlour window and hstened as those 
who had heard this phenomenon before and could 
dispassionately consider it. John, in some 
embarrassment at the emotion he saw on the 
face of Mariamne, stood thoughtfully upon one 
leg. 

Higher and higher and more and more passion- 
ately sang Amoris Ellen, pouring out all her 
anguish at the worry of having no frock to change 
into that you could call a frock, and similar griefs 
of the kind, in a flood of the beautiful notes, the 
mere sound of which always comforted her before 
she had sung very many of them. 

“ Boot-hoy ! ” gasped Mariamne. “ Who’s 
that ? ” 

“ It’s my sister,” said John. 

There was a rush and a whirl of skirts, and 
Mariamne had disappeared through the open door 

s 


274 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


behind John, and he and the little boys were left 
gazing at each other, while upstairs, a minute 
later, the sound of the singing abruptly ceased. 
John did not remain gazing very long, however, 
for at that moment Augustus, also in his Sunday 
suit, came bursting down the street and stopped 
at the doorstep. 

“ Why weren’t you up the street ? ” he de- 
manded wrathfully. 

“ Mariamne’s in there,” said John. “ She 
heard my sister singing.” 

The countenance of Augustus Glickson changed 
as the portentousness of this revelation dawned 
upon him. He put his hands in his pockets and 
leapt. “ My gracious,” he said. “ She’ll tell 
your mother everything, and we shall probably 
have to tell her everything too. Let’s get away 
while we can.” 

So they hastened out of Down Street. 

The Mayor’s palace was a huge and hideous 
house with great gates and a gravel sweep and 
several little bushes growing along the edge of 
the sweep, or rather not growing there. John 
and Augustus entered the gates at half -past three. 
Augustus was carrying the bagged card of the 
Hon. Asaph Chckson wrapped in his clean Sunday 


THE HAWKER LEAVES UNDER 275 

pocket-Landkerchief, and the slight uncertainty 
of the three footmen who were posed in lofty 
attitudes on the wide sweep of steps that led to 
the front doors, changed into pohteness at the 
sight of it. Mr. Asaph Clickson’s name was 
well known to the footmen of Under ; they at 
once came to the correct conclusion that this 
must be his son. 

“ Certainly, sir. This way, sir. His Worship 
is within, sir,” said the three footmen, bowing. 

When John and Augustus had walked through 
several entrances into the hall, the footman who 
was leading them paused. The air was filled 
with a sort of loud confused sound, which John 
and Augustus immediately recognized as the 
sound of a party. 

“ May I ask, sir,” said the footman, “ whether 
you wish to see his Worship alone ? ” 

“ Yes, we do,” said Augustus, “ We’ve come 
on especial business with him. We don’t want 
to go into the party.” Though John and Augus- 
tus did not know it, unexpected and unusual 
people had been arriving already that day at the 
Mayor’s Palace on especial business, and the 
footman perceived nothing surprising in the fact 
that hereVere apparently two more. 


276 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


“ Then perhaps, sir,” said he, “ I had better 
show you first into the ante-chamber.” 

So he ushered them across the hall, and showed 
them into a large and lofty room, from beyond 
the closed folding doors of which the sound of 
the party was arising in a perfect roar. But John 
and Augustus had neither ears nor eyes for any- 
thing but the sight which met their astonished 
gaze as the footman flung open the door ; for 
there, on a small gilt chair in the middle of the 
room, sat the little man. 

The footman closed the door and departed to 
seek an opportunity of delivering the bagged 
card of the Hon. Asaph Clickson to the Mayor ; 
but John and Augustus remained gazing upon 
the threshold in an amazement that the behaviour 
of the little man did not tend to lessen. He was 
seated on the extreme edge of his chair, wearing 
an expression of profound, resigned and astounded 
meditation ; and from time to time he feverishly 
wiped his brow. A pleased but pre -occupied 
smile of recognition dawned in his eyes as he 
perceived John and Augustus, but no sign of 
surprise. 

“ My dear lads ! ” he said. “ Have they sent 
for you also ? I am very glad you have come. 


THE HAWKER LEAVES UNDER 277 

We are all patriots together, and the Mayor has 
gone to fetch the band.” At this moment the 
door which led into the hall flew open, and a 
portly gentleman burst excitedly into the room. 

“ My dear sir,” he cried, “ the few representa- 
tive citizens whom I have assembled in haste to 

do you honour are waiting and eager to ” 

His eye fell on John and Augustus and he paused, 
still beaming, but expectant. He had evidently 
not yet received the bagged card of the Hon. 
Asaph Clickson. 

“ Oh, I thought you had been sent for,” said 
the little man, arising from his chair, “ These, 
sir, are the two friends of mine of whom I told 
you, who were — who are — ^that is, I mean — 
they helped me yesterday. But I do assure you, 
sir ” 

“ Nay, nay. Sir Timothy,” cried the portly 
gentleman, “ this is undue modesty.” He seized 
the hands of John and Augustus and shook them 
with all his might. “ I am delighted to see you, 
delighted,” he cried. “ The few representative 
citizens whom I have assembled in haste are 
waiting and eager to do you honour. Come this 
way, my dear sir, and you, my young friends, 
come this way, come this way.” 


278 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


He rushed across the room to the folding doors, 
and as he laid his hand upon them, as if by a 
signal they were flung apart by two footmen 
on the other side, the music of “ Lo, the con- 
quering hero comes ” crashed upon the air, and 
a large room opened on the view, full to over- 
flowing with the few representative citizens who 
seemed to the dazed John and Augustus to run 
into hundreds and whose countenances looked 
like a sea. As John and Augustus and the httle 
man advanced into the room, impelled onwards 
by the excited portly gentleman, all the repre- 
sentative citizens arose from their rows of chairs, 
burst into loud cheers and waved large white 
handkerchiefs. 

There stood John and Augustus, amazed 
beyond words, receiving the inexphcable plaudits 
of the representative citizens ; while the little 
man, a few paces in front, bowed mechanically 
from right to left, and feverishly wiped his 

brow. “ I do assure you ” he kept saying, 

but nobody heard him. The portly gentleman, 
laughing with delight, hovered round him and 
circled about him like a large bumble bee that 
had lost its head. At last he collected himself, 
advanced, raised his hand and called for silence. 


THE HAWKER LEAVES UNDER 279 


“ My friends,” he said, “ you most of you 
know more or less why I have called you hither 
in such haste this afternoon. But a few words 
of fuller explanation may not be amiss.” 

“I do assure you, sir ” cried the little 

man. 

“ Nay, nay, Sir Timothy, this is undue 
modesty,” cried the portly gentleman. 

Hear, hear,” cried the representative citi- 
zens ; and a lady in the front row to whom the 
few words of fuller explanation would certainly 
not be amiss since she appeared to be greatly 
mixed in her mind as to why she had been called 
thither in such haste, fixed a lorgnette upon John 
and remarked in a loud voice, “ Strange that so 
young a child should be thus plunged in deep 
deceit.” 

“ No, my dear madam. Hush, you mistake,” 
said every one round her in shocked accents ; 
and the portly gentleman waved his hand for 
silence. 

“ All unknown to us,” he cried, “ we have 
had for weeks in our midst — working not only 
at the great book for which the nation waits 
but also for the good of his country — working 
in retirement, in obscurity, with the modesty 


280 IN THE CITY OF UNDER 

which ever distinguishes the truly gifted — one 
whose name is known to all the world. I allude 
to Sir Timothy Griggs, wealthiest of antiquarians, 
most antiquated of wealthy men.” 

“ I do assure you, sir ” cried the little man. 

“ Nay, nay. Sir Timothy, this is undue 
modesty,” cried the portly gentleman. “As an 
antiquarian, however, ladies and gentleman. Sir 
Timothy is too well known to need any intro- 
duction. His name carries instant recognition. 
All the world has read his wonderful book on 
‘ Greek Symbols and Customs,’ and his last 
one on ‘ Roman Remains ’ — and all the world 
remembers the dastardly way in which, hearing 
of its preparation, others, who shall be nameless, 
strove to cut the ground from beneath his pen 
by bringing out another book just before his, 
founded on information and knowledge wormed 
out of Sir Timothy himself. But perhaps you 
are not yet aware of the intensely interesting 
fact that this noble city of Under of which we 
are so justly proud was once a Roman settlement 
itself. Sir Timothy has reason to believe that 
there are many traces to be found of it among 
our river-side buildings, and that, in some place 
above the river, probably on the now inaccessible 


THE HAWKER LEAVES UNDER 281 


heights of our mighty cliff, there was once a 
great place of worship dedicated to Mercury, 
the god called Hermes among the Greeks, a god 
who had travellers and sailors under his especial 
protection, and who was here, in the city that 
even in those days was a famous seaport of the 
north, especially honoured and worshipped.” 

There was a hum of interest and excitement 
among the representative citizens as the portly 
gentleman triumphantly brought forth the in- 
tensely interesting facts that he had never heard 
of till that day ; and the httle man, with a 
miserable face, listened in silence and resignation 
as his secret was remorselessly flung to the 
world. 

“ But it is not to Sir Timothy Griggs as an 
antiquarian,” cried the portly gentleman, “ that 
I have called upon you to do honour to-day. 
It is in a new and hitherto unknown character 
that Sir Timothy is among us. Ladies and 
gentlemen, I call for three cheers for Sir Timothy 
Griggs, the patriot.” 

“I do assure you, sir ” cried the little 

man ; but his words were drowned in the cheers 
which rang through the room. 

‘'Last night,' cried the portly gentleman 


282 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


at the top of his voice, flushed with enthusiasm 
and waving his arms wildly, Sir Timothy 
Griggs, practically alone and single-handed, 
arrested and captured and deprived of his ill- 
gotten spoils in the midst of the desolate uplands, 
in the midst of a storm such as this city has never 
before experienced, a foreign spy whom he had 
been tracking for weeks in Under, and who 
was, just at this most critical period of inter- 
national affairs, in the act of escaping to safety 
with detailed plans and description of the 
defences, the guns, the forts and the secrets of 
the great naval port of Wayport, our nearest 
neighbour. The spy himself, I regret to say, 
escaped, but Sir Timothy secured all his papers, 
and England was saved a serious disaster. Sir 
Timothy Griggs, ladies and gentlemen, is the 
saviour of his country."" 

“ I assure you, I do assure you,"" cried the 
httle man desperately, but nobody heard him 
in the tumult and the excitement which followed ; 
and the loud “ My gracious "" of Augustus 
Chckson also entirely escaped notice. Augustus 
Clickson himself, together with John, was im- 
mediately whirled into a vortex which allowed 
him no breath for further remarks. The rest of 


THE HAWKER LEAVES UNDER 283 


the call which he and John were making upon 
the Mayor passed more or less hke a dream — 
not a bad dream, but the sort of dream in 
which nobody asks any questions, and every- 
one takes the most extraordinary things for 
granted, and behaves as if things were what 
they aren’t and never could have been. On the 
edge of the dream they saw the footman bowing 
every now and again, still bearing the silver 
salver and the bagged card of the Hon. Asaph 
Chckson which he seemed thoughtfully uncertain 
of ever being able to dehver. 

The representative citizens of Under were much 
too busy making money to save England from 
anything themselves, so it naturally pleased 
them very much to find that someone else had, 
without charging them anything for it, saved 
her from a mishap that might have cost them a 
great deal. When they could not, because of 
the crowd around him, clap the Httle man on 
the back or shake him by the hand, they clapped 
John and Augustus on the back and shook them 
by the hand : and all the female representative 
citizens gave them tea, talking at the tops of 
their voices. John and Augustus were given no 
opportunity of explaining anything or of asking 


284 IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


for explanations ; and nobody did explain any- 
thing to them in consequence except the lady 
from the front row, who explained for nearly 
half an hour that she had thought they were the 
spies themselves. The portly gentleman, one 
large benevolent hand on the little man's shoul- 
der, explained everything to every one, however, 
entirely wrong — from the first skilful tracking 
of the spy by Sir Timothy Griggs in Under to 
the last desperate hand-to-hand struggle alone 
in the hills ; and whenever the little man said 
despairingly “ But I do assure you, sir," the 
portly gentleman said “ Nay, nay. Sir Timothy, 
this is undue modesty," and went on explaining. 
Finally the little man gave up trying to assure 
anyone of anything, and merely bowed mechan- 
ically right and left, and feverishly wiped his 
brow. 

At last there came a message brought by several 
hurrying citizens to the small tables at which 
John and Augustus, each seated erect and in 
the silence of stupefaction, were being plied with 
cakes, fruits, ices, sandwiches, sweets, coffee 
and tea by the female representative citizens. 
Sir Timothy Griggs found himself obliged to 
make an early departure, and would be glad if 


THE HAWKER LEAVES UNDER 285 


his young friends would accompany him, since 
he had declined the offer of a carriage and would 
make his early departure on foot. 

Five minutes later, John and Augustus and 
the little man, escorted to the very last step by 
the Mayor and the representative citizens and 
the footmen, left the palace of the Mayor, and 
walked through the great gates and out into 
the street. 


CHAPTER XV 
The Chaem Succeeds 

As soon as they had got round a corner, and the 
Mayor’s palace was out of sight, the little man 
stopped short and wiped his brow. 

“ Let me collect myself and tell you all,” he 
said. So, as soon as he had collected himself, 
they walked on slowly together, and he told 
them all. 

“ The man you call the Hawker,” he said, 
‘^took me to the foot of the chff that towers 
over this city. Which way we went I cannot 
say. In the darkness and confusion of that 
terrible storm I could only hold on to him and 
go with him bhndly. Who, my dear lads,” said 
the httle man, interrupting himself, “ is this 
man you call the Hawker ? ” 

“ Oh, he is just a Hawker,” said Augustus 
Clickson. “ He’s a friend of ours. Go on.” 

“ Well, he is a strange Hawker,” said the 
little man. “ Thinking over it in calmness and 
daylight afterwards, I cannot myself understand 


THE CHARM SUCCEEDS 


287 


the eagerness and confidence with which I went 
with him into the night. But I did. He took 
me to the chff. We said little on the road. I 
needed all my breath for my struggle through 
the storm, through which he, by the way, 
appeared to stride without effort. For the last 
part of the way we appeared to be going on grass 
among quantities of little hills, and there I first 
perceived that two people had joined us, a 
woman and a little girl. They seemed to be 
coming swiftly along in the same anxious con- 
fidence as myself, hurrying along in silence, 
and keeping close to the Hawker. We reached 
the chff. The incessant glare of the lightning 
showed me a strange large piece of rock jutting 
out from its face, just beside us. I heard a 
curious sound, as of stone moving smoothly on 
stone, and the rock disappeared. A hght sud- 
denly flashed in front of me, and I heard the 
Hawker’s voice, as if from within the cliff, 
bidding us come on. I went on, and found 
myself in sudden silence. He was stand- 
ing, with a lantern, in a hewn chamber within 
the chff, and the rock had rolled into position 
behind us. In that place of mighty walls, the 
storm which had so dazed and deafened and 


288 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


blinded us outside was no more than a faint 
and distant roar — but I forget, my dear lads,” 
said the httle man, interrupting himself, “you 
probably know this strange place much better 
than I do.” 

“ We never heard of it before,” said Augustus 
Clickson, too much surprised even to leap. 

“ Never,” said John. 

“ Nor of the stairway that leads from it up 
into the cliff ? ” said the little man. 

“ A stairway ! ” cried Augustus at the top of 
his voice ; while John could only gaze at him 
in amazement. 

“ A stairway, a wonderful stairway,” said 
the httle man. “ A stairway that rises right 
through the cliff and comes out high above 
Under among the forests. A stairway worn 
with the feet of generations, ancient and hollowed, 
centuries old. Is it possible that you did not 
know of its existence ? ” 

“ Nobody knows of its existence,” said Augus- 
tus with a gasp. “ Nobody’s ever heard of such 
a thing.” 

“ Perhaps that's the way that people vanished 
out of Under long ago,” said John, drawing a 
deep breath of utter amazement. 


THE CHARM SUCCEEDS 


289 


“ It is the way the Hawker took us last night, 
at any rate,” said the httle man, “ and it is a 
way I must go again and yet again. Nothing I 
have come across in this city has interested and 
astonished me so profoundly. Who made it, 
who used it, who needed it, in those long dead 
centuries of a vanished world ! But let me 
return to my story.” 

He paused, wiped his brow, and went on. 

“We climbed up that stairway behind the 
Hawker. In the forests above we were greatly 
sheltered from the storm by the thickness of 
the trees, nor did it appear to be raging there 
with anything hke the same ferocity as down 
below. We went up and up, always ascending, 
the Hawker aiding the little girl, till we reached 
a little hut in a glade. There, still in silence, he 
gave us food and drink, and deposited his load 
of staves. Then we went on, apparently by a 
pass through bare and tree- less uplands, and 
came out on a wide space of flat country, over 
which the moon was now shining among the 
hurrying clouds. At no great distance we 
found a railway and by it a little wooden 
platform with an apparatus for watering engines. 
There we sat down and waited, while the Hawker 

T 


2 % 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


walked up and down, looking out over the 
country. Presently we heard the distant sound 
of an approaching train, and its lights were soon 
visible, creeping slowly up. It reached us, and 
stopped ; and judge of my astonishment, my 
dear lads, when out of it stepped the old man 
whose departure I had helped in the station in 
Under. It was the goods train.” 

John and Augustus gazed on him breathlessly. 
The sense of the scheme had flashed suddenly 
upon them. While the goods train was making 
its long slow journey along the plains and up the 
valley and round on to the tableland — to pass 
Under once more, high above it in the night — the 
Hawker had taken his companions straight up 
through the forests and the uplands, and had 
reached the halt before the train did. 

“ Well, my gracious ! ” said Augustus Clickson. 

“ He stepped out,” said the little man, breath- 
less himself, as if agitated by the memory of so 
exciting a moment, “ and saw me. He stopped 
short, stepped back, threw up his arms and said 
‘ It is the English spy.’ I said ‘ I want my 
papers — only give me back my papers,’ but the 
Hawker laid his hand on his shoulder and said, 
‘ Not only his, but all.’” 


THE CHARM SUCCEEDS 291 

“ What did he mean ? ” said John and 
Augustus simultaneously. 

“ Wait, I will tell you,” said the little man, 
wiping his brow. “ The guard came hurrying up 
and the Hawker said ‘This gentlemen has 
taken with him by mistake papers which belong 
to this other gentleman — and also elsewhere. 
Three to one, sir, you see. Give in,’ and the 
man in disguise said ‘ I give in. I’m caught.’ 
The Hawker said, ‘ Not caught — headed and 
turned. A traveller has always a hundred 
roads to turn to.’ 

“ Then the man in disguise opened his coat, 
and with a knife, he ripped open its lining and 
took out numbers of papers, which the Hawker 
gave me. The man in disguise said, ‘ What 
are you going to do with me ? ’ and the Hawker 
replied, ‘ What should we do with you ? Go 
on your road.’ So he stood for a moment in 
silence, staring at the Hawker, and then he 
turned round and climbed back into the van, and 
shut the door. The Hawker, speaking with the 
guard, went off to the woman and child, and I 
saw them get in also. In a moment or two 
the goods train moved off, leaving me and the 
Hawker alone ; but when I looked up from 


292 IN THE CITY OP UNDER 

putting the papers away in my pockets, he 
was gone.” 

“ What did you do ? ” said John. Augustus, 
still lost in amazement at the little man’s story, 
thrust his hands deep into his pockets and leapt 
on high. 

“ I waited on the platform till a train came 
along the other way, going down to Under,” 
said the little man, " and returned on it in the 
dawn. But it was only when it grew light that 
I had an opportunity of examining the papers — 
it was only then that I fully realized the extra- 
ordinary thing which had happened.” 

The little man paused, and once more wiped 
his brow. 

“ We really are the saviours of our country, 
my dear lads,” he said, “ we and the Hawker. 
My own papers were all right, but with them 
were many others. The man was a spy himself. 
He had given me up all the documents with 
which he had been escaping from this country to 
his own — and the whole mystery is explained. 
Of course there was then but one course I could 
pursue, however averse I might be to it person- 
ally. Directly I reached Under, I took the 
spy’s papers to the Mayor, whose name and 


THE CHARM SUCCEEDS 


293 


address I happened to know, and he naturally 
recognized me at once and asked me why I was 
here and whether there were any Roman remains 
in Under. So I had to explain everything. But 
the one thing I found it impossible to explain 
was that we had saved the country entirely by 
mistake. He was too much excited to listen. You 
cannot explain a thing to a person who refuses to 
listen. He said it was my undue modesty. We 
can explain it later in the proper quarters if 
we have to. But we will endeavour not to 
incriminate William and my poor Landlord if we 
can help it, my dear lads. They will surely have 
learned their lesson this time, poor fellows. All 
the rest,” said the httle man, with a sigh, “ you 
know, and I can only hope the Mayor has not 
irretrievably ruined the future of my book on 
Under, for its story is known to no one but 
myself, and I was straining every nerve to pre- 
vent its being anticipated by others. The mere 
fact of my being heard of in a place is enough to 
set everybody travelling up to it with spades 
and pick -axes. But I think I am safe. I think 
I have collected sufficient facts already.” 

Augustus and John still walked along in 
amazement and bewilderment. It is certainly 

u 


294 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


surprising to come out to find a situation as 
an errand-boy and discover yourselves instead 
to be the saviours of your country. 

“ And the first thing I must do is to see that 
Hawker/" said the little man. I must see him, 
not only to try and reward him in some measure 
for the great services he has rendered everybody, 
but also to ask him about that extraordinary 
stairway, and to beg him to show it me again, 
and tell me all he knows about it."" 

“ We"ll come with you,"" said Augustus with 
decision. 

“ Its extraordinary situation ,"" said the 

little man, and with a violent start John came 
to a sudden stop in the middle of the pavement. 
The word had brought the electrifying recollection 
of another sort of ’situation to his mind. 

“ Chckson ! "" he said, ** We never did the 
Charm at the Mayor ! "" 

No more we did ! "" ejaculated Augustus. 

They stood and looked at each other. No 
more they had ! In the extraordinary turn 
which events had taken the instant they entered 
the Mayor"s palace, they had completely for- 
gotten the business on which they had originally 
entered it. 


THE CHARM SUCCEEDS 


295 


We’re fools, and so I tell you,” said Augustus. 

This comes from being mixed up in other 
people’s business, and I’ve warned you of it 
from the very beginning, and now I hope you’ll 
beheve me, John Hazard. Come on back at 
once, and we’ll do it at him this instant, before 
anything else has time to happen.” 

The httle man had stared in bewilderment, 
looking from one to the other. 

** What is the matter, what has happened ? ” 
he said. John and Augustus glanced at each 
other. They had momentarily forgotten the 
presence of the little man. 

” Nothing much, thanks,” said John politely. 
“ It’s only something we’ve forgotten. I’m afraid 
we must be going now. Good-bye.” 

But what did you say you were going to do 
at the Mayor ? ” said the httle man with excite- 
ment. 

Again John and Augustus glanced at each other, 

‘‘ It wasn’t anything at all,” said John. At 
least, hardly anything. We said it by mistake. 
We must go now, I’m afraid. Good-bye.” 

You said you were going to do a Charm at 
him,” cried the httle man. “ A Charm ! Am I 
in the nineteenth century ! Am I dreaming ! 


296 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


You are going to do a Charm at a Mayor. What 
is the Charm for ? 

** Don't tell him," said Augustus, turning red. 
** He’ll laugh at the silly rot." 

Laugh ! " cried the httle man, I laugh ! 
I, who spend my days in search of the beautiful 
old behefs and legends of the earth, of the rituals 
and symbols of ancient faiths — I, to whom the 
ancient world, with its grasp on the unseen, 
is more real than the groping world around us 
now, I who beheve that the forces of hfe and 
Nature are still conscious of the strugghng hves of 
men and still reach the hands held out to them ! 
What is a Charm but a hand held out ! 1 laugh ! " 

Augustus, in astonishment, gazed upon the 
httle man, and, putting his hands in his pockets, 
leapt abstractedly on high. 

** What is the Charm — Who gave you the 
Charm — Why did you need a Charm ? " said the 
httle man. 

“ Shall I tell him, Chckson % " said John un- 
certainly. 

“ Oh, 1 don’t mind," said Augustus. ‘‘ If he 
beheves all that sort of stuff already, I don’t 
see that it matters telhng him anything. The 
Hawker never said we weren’t to." 


THE CHARM SUCCEEDS 


297 


“ The Hawker ? said the little man, “ I 
might have guessed it had something to do with 
that strange friend of yours. What is the Charm 
for ? 

“ It"s to get me a situation,"" said John. 

“ Why do you want a situation ? "" said the 
little man, surprised. 

** Well, because we"re rather poor,"" said John, 
“ and I wanted to earn a httle money to encourage 
my mother. But Chckson and I couldn"t find 
a situation, so the Hawker gave us a Charm to 
help us. This is it."" 

The httle man took the staff in his hand, and 
looked at its rough carving. 

“ An extraordinary coincidence ! "" he cried, 
with a start. “ These are wings, and this is 
a twisted snake."" 

“ You have to try it four times before it 
succeeds,"" explained John. 

“ Will this be the fourth time ? "" said the 
httle man eagerly. 

“ Yes,"" said John. 

The httle man handed the Charm back to him 
with solemnity. 

“ Your Charm shall succeed,"" he said. “ Do 
it at me."" 


298 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


“ What for ? ” said John, bewildered. 

“ Because I will give you a situation,” said the 
little man. “ I can give you as good a situation 
as any Mayor. The Charm shall succeed. We 
will put it at once beyond all doubt. I will 
engage you.” 

“ What as ? ” said Augustus, with sense. 

“ I don’t know,” said the little man. “ I 
haven’t the least idea. What does it matter. 
The Charm shall succeed, I will engage you.” 

“ Will it be as something better than an 
errand-boy ? ” said Augustus. 

“ An errand-boy ? ” said the little man, sur- 
prised. “ I should hope so. Go on, go on. Do 
the Charm at me.” 

John looked at Augustus for guidance in this 
unexpected and unprecedented turn of events. 
Augustus put his hands in his pockets and leapt 
thoughtfully. 

“ Go on, idiot,” he remarked. 

“ But what will he engage me as ? ” said John. 

“ What does it matter what he engages you as 
so long as he does engage you ? ” said Augustus. 
“ He says it will be as something better than an 
errand-boy, anyhow, and he ought to know. 
Go on.” 


THE CHARM SUCCEEDS 


299 


Still in bewilderment, John took the Charm in 
his left hand. The words he had said so often 
came to his lips again. 

“ Do you want a boy, please, sir ? ” said John, 
and swept his right hand from his forehead to the 
ground. 

“ Yes, I do,” said the little man, solemnly, 
“ I engage you.” 

And there the story ends. 

James became the mathematical assistant of 
the brainless Professor — at least every one thought 
he must have done so, though neither he nor the 
Professor ever said that he had. But that was 
chiefly because they so seldom said anything 
to anyone. At any rate, on James remaining 
permanently away from his home, it was thought 
he must be remaining in Rider’s Lane, and when 
search was made for him he was found there, 
correcting the elemental part of the mathematics 
of the second part of the Professor’s treatise 
on solar radiation ; and the woman, having 
recovered from an attack of bronchitis, had 
reappeared, and was cooking for them both. So 
there James stayed, and there he eventually 
became famous, till he and the Professor both 


300 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


became so famous that they were taken away by 
a Government and placed in what the Govern- 
ment called a wider sphere. But James took 
no more notice of being famous than he ever 
took of anything, and he went on walking up 
and down laboratories working out abstruse 
problems in much the same way as he had 
walked up and down the dining-room in Down 
Street. Till James became so famous that he 
had to be removed, Mr. Whilhpson used to rush 
in and out of Rider’s Lane to see him, in a 
state of great triumph and excitement, but the 
time came when Mr. Whillipson’s Day Academy 
for Young Gentlemen became so famous too, 
on account of its having had James in it, that 
it also had to be removed, and Mr. Whilhpson 
re-established it in a beautiful country village 
far away, and was poor no more. 

As for Amoris Ellen, she went away with 
Mariamne, and Mariamne had her voice trained ; 
and when she grew up, she went through the 
world singing higher and higher as she had once 
sung in Down Street ; and the world came to 
listen to her as Down Street once had done. 
Amoris Ellen remained slightly irritable all her 
life, but it is a soothing thing to the nerves to 


THE CHARM SUCCEEDS 


301 


have the world listening to one ; and at any rate 
she never again had to sing away her feelings at 
having the breakfast things to wash up, or no 
frock to change into that you could call a 
frock. 

John’s mother went away also. She went 
away to live near the school to which the 
little man sent John till he should be old 
enough to take a situation as a soldier under 
the King, as his father had done before him. 

But the Hawker who had come to Under with 
dreams and winds was gone. They looked for 
him everywhere, in the market and up in the 
forest ; but he was gone, and he never came back. 
His hut stood empty in the glade near the 
mound among the bracken, and its door swung 
open. Perhaps he was gone to sell elsewhere 
the staves that could start men on such long 
journeys. 

In the dawn of the day that he went away, 
a shoulder of the cliff came down. It fell with 
a long sliding roar that shook the forests and 
echoed in the heavens, and it buried for ever 
the Hawker’s stair and the waterfall. People 
said that the long heat of the summer must have 
opened the seams of the cliff, and the rain of 


302 


IN THE CITY OF UNDER 


the storm had streamed in behind the rocks and 
loosened them. That may have been so or not, 
but at any rate no one went up out of the city 
by those ways again, for they were gone. 

But whether by this road or that men long ago 
climbed out of Under with a good courage for 
hope or help or liberty, there is still, and there 
always will be, a way out for every one who once 
starts to climb. 

As for old Mother Letitlie, for all I know she 
is sitting in Down Street still. 


L’ENVOI 


I 

They cross the crowded market-place 
Two questing figures, hurrying by, 
Augustus, bold of mind and face. 

And httle John, composed and shy ; 
Shadows mid shadows — here and gone — 
They pass, they fade. The tale is done, j 


II 

But we, we dwell in Under still. 

What are we all but children yet ! 

“ How high,” we say, “ this wall of hill 
Above the walls about us set ! ” 

Come they no more who once knew where 
Up through the hill -side climbed a stair ? 


304 


L’ENVOI 


III 

Comes he no more — ^the god of winds, 

Of trades and messages and mirth ? 

God of the dreams that move the minds 
And draw the wandering sons of earth. 

Often he passed this way — ’twas when 

The gods men worshipped walked with men. 

IV 

Treads he no more on silent feet 
Alone at night the Street called Down ? 

Where run the ways through that dark Street 
That once led out of Under town ? 

O’er the Waste Lands and up the Hill 

Leads there no road from Under still ? 

V 

The gods are gone. Long since they went 
Beyond the hills and far away. 

But what of old the old gods meant 
Moves in an unchanged world to-day ; 

And named of every age anew 

That nameless furtherance holds true. 


L’ENVOI 


305 


VI 

The feet that climb, the voice that calls, 
The heart that will not own despair — 
Out of the skies their answer falls. 

In pathless wilds their path is there. 
Life flows to inspire what life began — 
He can, who, dauntless, thinks he can. 


Wyman & Sons Ltd. , Printers, London and Reading. 





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